Death to adverbs- The View

The far away mountains with their definite brown ridges seem to merge with the creamy hued sky. A gossamer thin film of air hung above those ridges making their shape difficult to decipher. From this view point the sky’s blue is scarce. It appears as if some artist has deliberated on merging the browns with the blues making it a murky suspension of colours, smudged together.

However on close inspection the ridge, its shape, its mounds and slopes become visible. It gentles down on the sides  to meet patches of green hedges or trees, the sign of life, near the backwaters of the dam.


The mountain ridges show equanimity between the sky and the ground. It seems happy to be caressed by the sky and to be a part of the ground as   well.   The trees on its base sit with pride as if they have a right to be there.
A pleasant contrast in colour is brought by the dark blue still backwaters  which is a cradle of many lives- holding a myriad of fish and water weeds and appears serene in doing so.

This water stops after a distance as if it knows its boundary allowing the ground to spread, before the tree tops greet you.

A canopy of green trees which are closer than the rest sways in the air propelled by the gentle breeze. The air is a silent, invisible presence that moves with authority like an owner who has every right to pat the mountain back, spread its fingers through the  tree branches and leaves, and caress the water surface and seem to carry their essence for anyone and everyone to feel.

Upon closer inspection the tree leaves’ different shapes and colours are visible. They are busy ; busy communing with the nature around ; busy basking in the morning sun; busy making food and yet enjoying the breeze and playing with it .

The only prominent man-made structure is a building with a white roof and a tall antenna that stands between the greens. Even this, the nature seem to have accepted and so has become a part of the rest. The nature in its bounty has accepted the building to be its part as the leaves dance with joy around the white roof. This is the morning time.

Now everything is the same but more sharper and clearer. The brown mountain ridges have their definite shape set against the white cloudy sky and the greens getting deeper and the tree branches-more sharper strokes of lines-amidst the leaves.


The backwaters shimmer under the bright afternoon sun. Tiny silver dots jump on the water surface which nothing but the reflected light dancing on the small ripples about the water- a constant movement proclaiming life, vitality and vigour. It looks as if never ending spasms of pleasure course through water for the waves to dance about, under caressing fingers of the breeze. The mountain , like a mother, smiles upon them with pride and the trees give their approval.

The immovable mountain stands there moved by the agility of the wind, the freedom of the tree leaves to dance about their position and freedom of the water ripples to  swell and ebb at their own will. It has accepted others’ capacity to move and its own immobile state and is proud of its part in being a steady support to these others in the area. Each one knows their role and behave in accordance creating a beautiful scenery –unspoilt by man.


The sun sets and darkness begins to envelope all. The greens of the trees begin to merge – all in one colour- just shapes and silhouettes moving in the evening breeze. The blue waters turn black with no more light dots dancing on them. Small waves continue to emerge  as the darkening mountain overlooks them. Its night vigil has begun as the dark sky blankets all to announce the time or rest.

Soon everything fades into one huge blackness and as the distant city lamps light the horizon, this valley of nature untouched lie in peace, awaiting the dawn.


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