![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl9s4nwJEPftUko6i_d7Ulx9xd5z9r-_4_tmOFeD6PQ7z2Ku1uSpcKKo2JoH_i27xKyohV_rgmPcwwVnjt0EcUguVZAylX1tZMDtWqRAugbUCeDb-Olx4nMTQ2_lM9Vs-HHSuP/s320/Pic.jpg)
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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.)
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