Last morning in Muktinath. Went for quite a cold climb on the side of the hills where the sun hits last. Funny to think that when I first started exploring the hills, I thought the area was an isolated wilderness. Now I know the paths are frequently travelled; the ani-haru and other locals range all over that area collecting manure and firewood, and troops of pack donkeys often come through as well as travelers of all kinds. It’s lost maybe only a little of the enchantment, in the way that familiar things become ordinary—but at times a sudden magic occurs, like last evening when I saw a herd of deer standing motionless in a perfect circle while evening puja bells rang in the distance, as if listening.

This morning I kept to the path—it led up through snowsprinkled shadowy hills, but suddenly at the end arrived at a flat mesa, draped with sunlight, and a stone circle. A 180 degree view of the valley.