Here’s another photograph from my trip to Nagaland
There was a meadow of flowers, in the middle of a wide-stretched wilderness, sitting atop a hill almost forgotten, waiting to be discovered by me. It was bound by barbed wire, thick and rusty, where spiders nestled. I was hungry and cold, having lost my way.
Then I broke my way through the last of the brambles, I was brought face to face unto this heaven of wild flowers, just by the mere sight of which I was rejuvenated, in the bliss of which, I realized even though I didn’t have shears to cut through it was enough.
This sight of exotic temporal beauty would last only until sundown and I’d have to leave them before that and head off on my way. But, for the moment, while I sat so close to the meadow with my fingers nearly long enough to caress a flower or two, my being lost…
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