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Play of Seasons

Every tree unfolds its story in its own specific way. Summers, when the Cassia was brightening up the either sides of the roads and if there has been exception, it was not noticed. Come rains and I felt back into the Kangra valley only with exception that on either side of huge mountains or the ravines, these high-rise green trees seem to envelope me in mystery. A day before to library in Sector 34, the Kadamba trees lit up the roads with their flurry balls whose spikes formed a carpet beneath and this coincided with Janamashtmi (The birthday of Lord Krishna).

noon shift...
nowhere a butterfly
from the kadamba

Noon shift is all season kigo for me, a shift from the time when our shadows are the shortest and then starts to lengthen.


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