The rays of the setting sun dance vigorously upon the snow-capped peaks of the upper range of the Himalayas. Baked gold and orange define the colour of the skies. Fire and dance and unrelenting ice, it is almost as if the tandava of Shiva becoming accessible to the mortal eye.
In the foreground is a quiet rope bridge. Five beasts of burden tread gently across, herded by a lone Sherpa with a stick in his hand bringing up the rear. The lower ranges loom over them at either end of the bridge. Hints of verdure and ruby on those cold rock bodies; coniferous silhouettes dotting the tops.
A cool blue stream flows at quite a depth from the bridge. It is fed by pure glacial waters, to which Hindus the world over ascribe sacred cleansing powers. It is a refreshing visual break in a colour palette of fiery jewel tones and dark, solemn pastels.
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