When autumn breeze starts blowing and the sky turns azure and clouds like combed cotton sway, I can hear the call of the Himalaya to my inner ear every year. It almost bends me to pack up and set out for the
When autumn breeze starts blowing and the sky turns azure and clouds like combed cotton sway, I can hear the call of the Himalaya to my inner ear every year. It almost bends me to pack up and set out for the