I visited Rishi Valley recently and nothing recharges my batteries quite like an early morning climb along the Sliding Rock ridge, to discover formations I never knew when I was studying there, and to return home with not just pretty pebbles, but a entire rock!
If I'd written this a week ago, I might have said more. Instead, there are photographs.
The owl - they are a pair, actually - lives in the rafters of the senior school. One evening, when the senior school was specially opened up, I caught sight of both of them. One of them cocked her head to look at me, all puzzled. They were adorable. This one was taken one morning, when I was waiting for some teachers.
Turtle Rock from the other side looks like a gun. But on the principle that turtles are better than guns, this is the view you get.
On our way down, we had our eyes peeled for stones we could take back (we hunt stones like they were fugitives from justice). We admired green stones that were actually paving the path we were on, so we had to reluctantly leave them be.
And then we found this one. It looked like nothing so much as half a loaf of artisanal bread just lying there. We picked it up and discovered the rich red inside.
Of course I wanted it. I brought it back, too, all the way from that hill to our room, and then from RV to Hyderabad. Considering that I was also bringing back a great, big wooden chair in its two separate pieces, all bubble-wrapped and tied with rope, I think this is a piece of - what's Marie Antoinette's word for it? - cake.
If I'd written this a week ago, I might have said more. Instead, there are photographs.
The owl - they are a pair, actually - lives in the rafters of the senior school. One evening, when the senior school was specially opened up, I caught sight of both of them. One of them cocked her head to look at me, all puzzled. They were adorable. This one was taken one morning, when I was waiting for some teachers.
Turtle Rock from the other side looks like a gun. But on the principle that turtles are better than guns, this is the view you get.
On our way down, we had our eyes peeled for stones we could take back (we hunt stones like they were fugitives from justice). We admired green stones that were actually paving the path we were on, so we had to reluctantly leave them be.
And then we found this one. It looked like nothing so much as half a loaf of artisanal bread just lying there. We picked it up and discovered the rich red inside.
Of course I wanted it. I brought it back, too, all the way from that hill to our room, and then from RV to Hyderabad. Considering that I was also bringing back a great, big wooden chair in its two separate pieces, all bubble-wrapped and tied with rope, I think this is a piece of - what's Marie Antoinette's word for it? - cake.
