It’s 6 in the evening with the waxing crescent moon behind clouds that are snowing on the mountains. Fresh snow across the Manali valley while the Beas continues to flow as ever. It’s supposed to be darker but isn’t. The white cloud cover above and the snow below gives a lovely white glow to the remaining day.
There are cars coming down a mountain slope, which is near the Beas and at an angle facing it. The slope, the river, and the cars are all facing me but they are down in the valley while I’m up on a mountain, somewhere at the middle of it.
As the cars descend, their headlights give a warm-yellow reflection in the river.
Like how the rising full moon would appear on the same river 11 days later — somewhere else where there are no mountains between the river and the moon.
Ever since living in the Himalaya, buried between mountains, I miss seeing the full moon rising.