The morning is quiet, and the air is thin and blue. From the green slope, the mountains stretch away in layers, each ridge a little paler than the one before it, as if the world were slowly being erased into sky. Nothing calls from that far place. It simply waits, the way distant things do, and asks only that you keep looking. You could turn back. The grass is warm and the path is known. But something in that pale horizon pulls at you, the quiet promise that past every ridge you have climbed, there is one more. Sony a7IV | Sigma 70-200mm f2.8 Spiti Valley, Himachal Pradesh, India