Emma Gershun-Half

Ladakh is a place where the mountains are the size of dreams. They reach up past the sky, their tops dusted with snow and high-flying birds.
Ladakh is a place where the incremental creeping of the Indian subcontinent somehow results in a majestic collision of earth and stone and peaks three miles above sea level.
Ladakh is a place where weather worn faces smile from every direction and where young children look with wide eyes but never say a word.
Ladakh is a place where one can hike for miles with endless possibilities in sight, but never know the destination or what it will hold.
Ladakh is a place where dust settles and blows and is a general nuisance, but belongs just the same. It coats the nose and throat, but also is the stuff that mountains and stream beds, gompas and homes are made of.
Ladakh is a place where the day is greeted by the sun, and the night by the moon, both of which are so bright and vibrant that midnight and midday are equally inspiring and un-oppressive.
Ladakh is a place where the landscape is barren, yet full of otherworldly life. A place where it is possible to feel peacefully alone and part of everything simultaneously.
Ladakh is a place where it is possible to be.