Waking up to the sound of rain, silk screen mountains rising between clouds, the sound of the river.

Steam rising from the pool into cold air, a Yogi arriving, practising implausible positions by the waters edge, his breathing exercises accompanied by the sound of horns and drums from the temple, announcing the god being paraded through the streets, the sound of the mountains. 
And another implausible day takes shape in this place where worlds collide beneath treelined slopes and rocky heights now topped and veined with fresh snow.