Little wisps of a beautiful white, that just happened to be there. I go close, they flutter slightly in the wind that blows through my hair. I take a quick picture, hoping for beauty to remain. It does too. I want to take it in my hand and feel its invisible tickle. But then, I know, some things are best left as they are.

(Pictures taken at in the thickets of the beautiful range of Mandalpatti. The miles of mountains, just a few of us humans, a blazing fire that I embraced. A beautiful day it was, a beautiful memory.)