Shadows of clouds play hide and seek over the mountain, which is situated at an elevation of 15,000 feet. The air has practically no pollution, making it ideal for stargazing and photography.
As someone eloquently described this place, and I quote, “You would be forgiven for assuming the high Himalayan sun at midday would paint everything in brilliant white. But it doesn’t. Not quite. Nor does it gild the world with the golden touch of late afternoon. The colour of noon in Ladakh lies somewhere between these extremes—a pale, almost spectral tint, where the sky sharpens into cobalt and the mountains begin to blur at their edges. It is a moment when the familiar shades lose their vocabulary, and the land speaks in a language of tone and contrast.”
