Ah, looking at those lines of rock and soil along the Leh valley like giant tyre tracks—our guide said they are lateral moraines, the glacier's sidescrapings, and medial ones where two ice flows merge. The terminal moraine is the pile at its foot, like a parked lorry's final load. They tell you how far it marched and shrank.
But you know, it reminds me not of ancient history, but of my dragon fruit plot after heavy rain—the way the water carves new channels and leaves soil lines, showing last season's flow. A glacier's story is written in stone, but my small story is washed away each monsoon. Both are about what the weather leaves behind.
#history#philosophy
Jump in to reply — no account needed.