Pikas bring a sense of activity to the higher climes, weaving a string of momentariness around rocks brooding in geological time… perpetually restive in their disposition as they scurry, stop and shirk, manicuring the meadows with their hurried nibbles, carving abodes beneath the terra… humbled by the mountain, yet humbling it as well…

Brings to mind the fable of the mouse maid, with due taxonomical liberties taken… for pikas may resemble rodents but are kin to Leporids… a straddling of sorts… there’s that attribution to Pokémon – one of the several Japanese concoctions one feels are an attempt to regain a sense of self after suffering an obliteration for the ages, seeking solace in nature, or a manifestation thereof – that brings them into popular culture, but for the most part they remain in the shadows, of human imagination, and of dens and burrows…

A short but steep climb had got us to the base camp of Kang Yatse peak at the head of Markha valley… I’d left the larger group behind and tagged along with the Sherpas in the hope of dumping the rucksack and ambling around to scout for any wildlife before the tents and the consequent din drives everything away, not that the campsite was empty, almost four dozen tents were already punctuating the foot of the moraines, but there was this patch which our dozen would occupy in a while, and a cluster of rocks behind it that offered opportunities…

Thus I went, armed with the big bins, looking for marmots or pikas now that we were in their country… whiling time away with an accentor and a horned lark, luck finally smiled as a movement beneath a rock caught the eye… a pika was peeking out to check the surroundings before leaving the safety of the den for a sortie…

I parked myself still over a rock to let the occupant beneath be, and the little ball of fur obliged, hopping out into the sunshine, with a look that was part inquisitive, and part piqued… our protagonist looked like a large-eared pika, the kind loath to digging burrows and making do with crevices beneath rocks and scree… not very sociable either, preferring to maintain a territory and subsist on it exclusively, including plenty of sunshine…

Pikas don’t hibernate unlike many faunal residents of high altitudes, a lot of mettle beneath that mousy demeanour after all… and so they build their coffers, bit by bit, blade by blade… for a creature already subsisting in solitude, braving the harsh desolation of winter must be excruciating… but there’s a poesy that lilts in the pain, and an adrenalin emanating from going against the grain… that’s the reason, maybe, for this mammal that rejects most of the creature comforts chosen by its brethren, and also a tail…

This one was just out for a quick meal though, and not really hoarding for winter in the middle of August, nibbling at flowers and stems in its quintessential haste… basking over a rock every now and then, presiding over the kingdom till a predator comes calling… by this time I’d started feeling a slight throbbing in the head… beginnings of altitude sickness that would rule out any more mammalian or avifaunal pursuits for the next few days… the pika went back to the burrow after a fifteen minute sojourn… and I went back looking for some warm water to soothe the headache…   

Musing on a large-eared pika, Markha valley, Ladakh