
"The hills were alive with the s

ound of music...". We heard it. The breeze making its way through the leaves, the lonely bird, the unknown chatter, the silence, everything made music. A divine composition. We just stood and heard in rapt silence.
Oh there were sighs too. We felt it. Trees standing, waiting to be sacrificed in the name of development. A jarring note indeed.
We left the hills carrying with us its majestic glory.
Truly Himalayas.

We finally reached the western city where we have a home. This is the road that leads to our apartment. The green arch that the trees form is such a welcoming sight. Soon it will be flame orange as the boughs break into blossom.

This is the view of the skyline from our balcony.
Lots of high rises have mushroomed in the last few years, heralding in a new culture. Be it the hills or towns
destruction, sorry,
development is inevitable.
Holidays are fleeting as the morning mist. Precious perhaps for the same reason.

Development everywhere, even in the hills - very well depicted, pictures say it all and a good way to express
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