We stood in a clearing of otherwise rolling forest. On the other side of the vast valley, the sun was setting behind the Himalayas. The sky was almost black, and an arctic wind was blowing. Without a mirror, I knew that my cheeks were very red.
We watched the clouds shifting past the distant mountains, the colors on their underside breathtaking- deep red, lava orange, streaks of vivid yellow. The colors burned fiercely on the clouds as the last light died from the sky. I was mesmerized, my eyes locked on the horizon.
It looks like a painting, said the girl behind me.
She giggled, happy to be able to talk after nine days of silence. The clouds rolled south as we watched, the colors shifting and deepening.
Right now, she continued, someone is painting a picture in the sky.