A day in Phobjikha

Phobjikha valley in Wangdue 

It was a beautiful day, the day I visited the famous Phobjikha valley in Wangdue a fortnight ago with some of my colleagues. Pelela was awash with rhododendron flowers in full bloom. If winter makes this mountain pass between Wangdue and Trongsa treacherous, spring brings glorious beauty to it. But in fact, the mountain is equally beautiful during winter. I remember crossing it last December when it was under a thick blanket of snow. Snow made the road dangerous for motorists, but it made the towering mountain sparkle with beauty.

The resplendent beauty of the majestic mountain, however, paled in comparison to the surreal magnificence of the Phobjikha valley. At the height of spring, the valley was still grey. The vast grey expanse stretched as far as eyes could see. The small stream that meandered its way through the valley sparkled in the morning sun. Grazing cattle dotted its marshy banks. From the far end of the valley, a lone crane called out loud and clear before it took wing. No cow lowed. No herders bothered them. All was quiet and peaceful until some wood cutters started their work on the fringes of the valley. They sent the blaring sound of power chain saw across the peaceful valley. It went on for hours on end harshly drowning the sounds of chirping little birds that continuously fluttered across the valley floor.