Just as the thrill of an adventurous experience runs through our nerves to charge up every part of our body, the ear drums also reverberate with the music of nature. Such unorthodox melodious notes strike a chord in the heart and leave musical trails along the paths of one’s memory.
Horses heaving and panting had a bunch of bells clanking and jingling while hanging from their necks, with the clip-clop noise of horse feet strutting up the hill. Our trekking boots hopped to one side of the narrow path to make way for the equestrian troupe led by shepherds and we drew out long sleepy yawns.
The loud and repetitive sound of metal against wood was ringing in our ears as we camped near the home of a villager logging dead tree branches for firewood. He swung his axe as high as he could every time and brought down all his shoulder strength on the branches. Then the crackling and hissing of flames lighting up his hearth and giving his family soothing warmth against the shivering cold also stepped into our memory.
The magnificent roar of the waterfall was almost deafening for us and seemed to drown out our voices struggling to break through the curtain of din. It seemed like an army of soldiers were rushing towards us and only had to cross the waterfall and engage in a gory battle, and thus sent chills up our spines as we inched closer and the water sprayed on our faces.
The sole sounds of crampons stabbing into a solid ice wall and ice axes hammering steps into it were surrounded by a deathly silence in the environment, from which anything could be anticipated. This wall of silence was smashed by a sudden and fortunately distant noise of an avalanche crashing on a snow slope which spiked up the chill in our limbs as silent prayers floated up to the heavens.
The drowsiness lifted off of my eyelids as a single early-riser feathery friend relieved the weary crickets of a night’s performance of buzzing and wooing to sleep fellow beings in an aura of enigma and relaxation. Now she fluttered her wings and began a mellifluous song, sending shrill echoes all over the hillside and making up for her tiny size with a loud voice, and human heads started popping out of tents as her audience.
The cacophony that we suddenly confront back in the cities might offer a rude shock after the peaceful solitude of the hills.
So all these sounds or long periods of silence are treasured when they come back to us after the trek. They peek inside our dreams and distract us from our daily schedule, beckoning us to more melodious adventures.
P.S. – The last photo had been clicked by one of my trek mates.