The Gods would have taken one giant stride to reach Dunagiri from Almora, I took the road less travelled. A road that unravelled through fields governed by the Kumaon Mothers of the Earth, all of whom are busily engaged in turning the tapestry of their agricultural blanket into the rich colours of autumn. Grasses and fragrant herbs are being cut and gathered and dried, stacked in elegant umbrella like stands.Wheat is being threshed on rooftops where red chillies bake in the sun and the hills are blue tinged with the mysterious breath of oak and cedar in communion.

Green patches give way to freshly turned soil, some kids prod a bullock around in circles in a rock ringed field and men sit in the sun at local chai shops, turning newspapers this way and that until a real story comes along. In between runs a river, skipping over shallows and lingering to look at itself in the mirror stillness of a deep pool. The terraced fields of Kumaon are turning a season of colors.  Marigolds burnish the palette of fading greens and deep browns and even the butterflies are colour coded to match the mood. They are smaller, browner with brilliant specks of orange or else defiantly drift by, purely golden. It’s a silent world in this part of Kumaon, there was  not another vehicle on the road once we began to wind up the cedar cloaked hills to Dunagiri Resort.

The road leading to the resort is lined with flowers, happy trees planted by previous guests and a welcome as warm as Kumaon sunshine. It’s taken me time to get here. I  had promised over a year ago to come and visit, had it in my mind on a recent fly by night visit to Ranikhet but time and opportunity slipped by. Then there is the utter peace and stillness I found on the hillside of Papasali where I find it difficult to make a trip to the beloved Tara’s store more than once a week. Once you find your place in Kumaon, it can be very difficult to bestir yourself.

But as I am so fond of telling everyone, there is more to Uttaranchal than Rishikesh and Haridwar. There is this beautiful area of Kumaon.The land of slow travel, humble and hardworking people with hearts of gold and a shyness that comes from their own sense of being complete in their world. Kumaon is the resting place for the soul of the seeker, the heart of the artist, pinpointed with ancient holy sites,  alive with wildlife and home to an increasingly vital organic movement.

Roads are made for travellers in this area, distances are measured in the time it should take to each and anyway, no one is in a hurry. The sun will rise and set as it always does, grass will grow and vegetables will be plucked, eventually we all get to where we are meant to be. Today for me, it is the enchanting Dunagiri Retreat, a dream resort created by visionary owner Piyush Kumar who says when he arrived here and his feet hit the ground, he felt he could not leave, that he had come home. This space encompasses every aspect of  conscious travel. A place Piyush has slowly built and where  people could come to heal, to learn and to engage actively in the communities they visit.

I love to see people’s dreams come to fruition especially when the dreams integrate  into a reality that benefits all around. I bless the people of  Dunagiri who have given Piyush their support and sweat to help realise the dream of a healing place. This field of dreams has such an energy that if you sit in the silence you  can hear the whisper of the plants who are there to heal and teach.

Dianne Sharma-Winter is a freelance writer living between India and New Zealand. She writes on travel, culture and humour using India as her muse.