#tur khurakh

The world is incredibly cold, typically about minus thirty in January.  The air is crystal clear without a drop of moisture, and there are no clouds.  At this hour, the moon and stars reflect off the ice with such intensity that it seems like day.  The stars across the sky drop to the horizon in every direction, and I begin each day staring at them and marking how far they have moved in their constant rotation around the North Star.  The bitter wind whips around the edge of the cliffs with such force that it could peel the skin from an exposed face or cause toes to break off. Wolves howl through long nights that were so cold the moonlight itself seemed to have frozen.

- Jack Weatherford, writing about the Tur Khurakh valley