In the hills, they will tell you that when the cobra lilies turn fiery red; the tree ferns begin to turn brown; the setting sun changes its multi-hued pallet of colours with each passing day and the garden escapees bloom – you can take it for granted that the Great Indian Monsoon is on the retreat after its three month reign in these mountains.
Come end-August and a carpet of wild flowers have sprung into existence. Mauve, red, pink and white orchids bloom on every nook and corner of the hill-station of Mussoorie. But what takes your breath away are the vibrant garden-escapees, the glory of the place. I do not think there can be a finer wild flower than the wild ginger lily, the dahlia and the cobra lily. The sheer variety of its colours abloom in dense masses, grow in the wild from end of July to October, splashes of colour on the jade green hillside.
The slopes above and below the road is awash in a nodding sea of flowers dancing in the gentle breeze, watching you through the water-laden mist which comes down to touch the plants, as the colours jump out at you: crimson, scarlet, mauve, white, yellow, pink, orange, purple and sometimes a deep, almost black maroon. The wild-flowers play, ‘now-you-see-me, now-you-don’t,’ just as mist envelopes them briefly in between sunshine and rain.
Such a gathering of wildflowers warms the cockles of the heart and pleases to the eyes just at a time of the year when everything else is shrouded in a gloomy mist of grey, slowly making its way in Autumn.
Come to the hills now and let the short-lived magic spell of monsoon’s rainbow children in bloom, balm your heart and soul before they too vanish with the retreating rains making way for winter’s icy march.
