Fall engulfs the valleys of Ladakh each year, before it dissipates to give winter way. But while it lasts, sheets of auburn and bright, burning yellow light up its undulating territory. The apricot and poplar trees merge to create a spectacular show of colours, embellishing each village in shades of gold, green and rust. A momentary acquaintance is formed with the season of autumn; a short, playful and incorrigibly erudite relationship that lasts until it is bereft of time and contained solely within postcards, pictures and paper memory.
The Indus valley is painted with seasonal shades that complement the barren mountains, while the river, Indus, ribbons through its landscape. Zanskar on the other hand, begins to prepare for the winter, as the days get shorter, the river water discards the murkiness of the melted glacier water and adopts the crystal clarity of its purest form, soon to drop down to formidable temperatures and freeze entirely.
Autumn is acquiescently accompanied by the harvest season. It is time to reap the yielding of the year, one which is usually limited and must be consumed cautiously until the next season for agriculture arrives. Barley, wheat and rice are the primary crops grown on the land. Despite its aridity and altitude, the scope for agriculture and horticulture remained vast in Ladakh for decades, disrupted eventually by climate change, growth of tourism and the multiplying local population in the region, resulting in the import of food products from the outside world.
For those who have visited Ladakh, know that each season and each sight leaves you overwhelmed, for encountering the raw, ravishing beauty of this remote region is unlike anything you will ever experience. The jagged peaks and seamless stretches of uncharted territory, punctuated by life. Emblematic white washed Chortens, archetypal mud brick homes dotted across barley fields. Picturesque Gompas situated silently on hill-tops, overlooking astounding views of the valley and villages beneath. And the ever prevailing prayer flags, fluttering in every remote corner of every evident house, on the highest peak and lowest valley, carrying good-will, peace, luck and prosperity to all the residents of a region so content and complete in its own existence.
