An intrusion of elsewheres

An early alarm set to ensure that there's coffee on the balcony for M before her departure, off to bhagsu for a month of yoga. And here the price of these travels, the dance of parting, emotions condensed by the intensity of time's restrictions, dreams, plans and visas clashing and colliding; a calendar of depths rather than distances both price and prize.
But it's an odd place Vashisht, sticky as J puts it, not easy to leave whatever the next destination might be. 
Here circling conversations over the last couple of days have led to the verge of the long road to Spiti. And yet it's hard to find momentum.
This morning, cloud on the mountains, a promise of further rain and snow to come while, from the hidden depths beyond, the military thrum of jet engines, a reminder that, in a straight line, Jammu isn't so far from here.  
And the world intrudes.
But it feels distant now, that same intensity having been a companion for months combining with the mad and joyous culture which surrounds or embalms you, shifting perspectives and translating the world beyond into a third person narrative. 
And maybe from this perch above the Kullu valley it's easy to understand why people can get lost here.