Fall into the pupil of a sapphire in the snow-capped mountains.

It's like a turquoise earring dropped by a goddess.‌💎 Shattered into a Tiffany blue silk at an altitude of 4,441 meters.‌ Clouds dipped in prayer flags murmur into the heart of the lake.🌌 Ripples have the texture of chanting scriptures.‌ The moment a yak shatters the crystal mirror surface,🔮 The snow mountain brews thousands of years of time into jasper.‌ When the wind blows through the Mani stones,🎐 I seem to hear the echo of swan wings brushing against the holy lake... --Hypoxic but not lacking in poetry, where there is blue, there is a way home.‌