Traces Of Travel Diary-2

The sound of silence

Have you heard the sound of silence? The stillness of everything makes you wonder, if you are sitting in a postcard.For nyctophillics like me it is rather confusing that night doesn’t fall early in Europe during summers. Though I am not a morning person but it would be an inexcusable crime to miss the mornings. The morning alarm is the chirping of the birds, the songstress singing her maiden song for the day. A mix of fragrances of a bouquet of flowers blooming just outside the window, perched on the balcony, peeping with a hope of catching a glimpse of you; that fragrance tantalize your senses to leave a lingering presence for the whole day.

As you stretch yourself and inhale the nip in the air, the balcony with a symphony of unheard sounds implore you to step outside.Beyond the periphery of my cottage the sight of abundance of waves grabs my attention. The enchanting River Aare flows right in front of my room.Captivating, delightful,beguiling and spellbinding River Aare; in a hue of green not similar to the various greens of the numerous trees, but a green that’s unique to it. The river sings a song of its own. A harmony it creates from the notes of its rippling waves, soothing your turbulent mind, your restless soul.

A bunch of birds fly aimlessly in a definite chaotic pattern across the river. Majestic mountains covered with alpine trees stand silently, patiently behind the river watching lovingly its beloved river dancing through its curves and turns and rejoicing the existence of them. The mountains having a streak or two of the snowy promises, which you wish to seek, would be found only at the peak.

Stray clouds roam from one mountain to another, with wisps of rain in them. They wander sometimes descending on a mountain peak for the pleasure of kissing it. Yet sometimes they are so overwhelmed with their joyous encounters, that they cry with happiness at the drop of a hat, drizzling sometimes and a downpour at others. And the very next minute like a butterfly the mischievous sunshine would be fluttering to say hello. How can she lag behind?

Not far from this playground are the snow covered,  clouds laden majestic mountain of Jungfrojoch. Enjoying their solitude but wishfully a part of all the love. They wait for you, implore you to embrace you with all its snow…..

Till we are smothered with the blankets of white magic and make a journey uphill to Jungfroujoch, standing proud as the highest in Europe. More sonnets, verses and prose, this time wrapped in pristine white snow……