A day of rain. The early morning mountains shrouded in mists rising cloudwards, ridges and peaks hidden as the rain prattles across rooftops, drumrolls above the constant rumble of the river, now pools of grey between surging white as it races down the valley. 
Hot springs empty, dip and sit as the cooling rain falls and the surface transforms into interference patterns between the rising clouds of steam. 
And by the temple white rabbits, the tidal day depositing crowds up from Manali and a trail of static cars stretching down the hill. 

The familiarity of landscape and weather, Scotland through the looking glass. A day to sit and watch, listen, be grateful for a room rather than a tent as you drink hot chocolate on the balcony and watch the unfolding day down below.