As a photographer, it was the scale of this Himalayan landscape that posed the greatest challenge. For me, mountains against the sky speak of Swiss postcards, monasteries on distant crags echo guide books and nestling villages are all too quaint. I wrestled with clichés and lenses and the skyline.
In Pokhora, the view across the lake hinted of the scale of things to come.
High in the mountains, time and again I looked out over the vast and empty landscape only to realise it wasn’t empty, that there on the scraggy hillside were grazing goats or tiny herdsmen. A load was slowly moving along a track, or a silhouette would appear on a ridge
It was these people in the landscape, a lone figure walking up the Kali Gandaki valley, that defined the scale most dramatically.
Then there were the traces of these people, lost clothing, and intimate objects out in the middle of nowhere.
Looking up to massive peaks and down to fine grasses; Noticing patterns and shapes in individual rocks repeating themselves in the great valleys and cliffs below.
It was in the greatness of the landscape that the small things became apparent.

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