I found myself in the company of Pema Chophel, my childhood friend and neighbor, and Pema Khandu, the son of Mem Lam Norbu. My youngest brother, Sangay, was with us as well. The scene unfolded near Genden's old house, as we passed under its old house, attached to what once served as the main altar room.
Together, we descended the village path, our steps taking us above my aunt’s house. There, Sangay paused to climb a small tree that stood just below the terrace of my upper farmland. A few more steps down the path, I suddenly felt a surge of excitement and began shouting, “Snowfall! Snowfall!”
In an instant, the entire village was blanketed by a delicate sheet of snow, transforming the familiar landscape. Looking up, I saw the majestic Yomzangmo mountain cloaked in white, its peaks glistening under the snowfall.
And then, just as quickly as it had begun, I awoke. It was 6:46 a.m. on the 24th of December, 2024.
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