It reminded me of thunder, but it was a different type of crash. One of the fingers of drifting ice that grasp these peaks had lost a chunk of its icy tips. Fog rolled in. Its white puff slithered across the slate-coloured mountain range, and the fusion of light and dark merged into a haunting aura.
I am happy to see my latest interview posted on the Interview with Writers website.
Burning Arches and Masked Dancers at the Tamshing Phala Choepa
Bumthang Valley, Kingdom of Bhutan
Explorer of all seven continents on a quest to find the essence of lesser-visited destinations.