Deforestation, dams, and rising temperatures are creating ‘naked winters’, pushing the remote valley toward ecological and cultural loss. It is high time for urgent, rooted action.
Shiekh Bilal
Gurez is a high‑altitude valley in northern Kashmir, about 120 km from Srinagar, sitting around 2,400 metres above sea level along the Kishanganga River. Once, this remote Dardic homeland, with its Shina‑speaking people, log‑wood houses, and snow‑capped Habba Khatoon peak, was known for winters so harsh that Razdan Pass remained shut for nearly six months. Heavy snow, avalanches, and complete isolation were not just difficulties; they were part of the valley’s identity and rhythm of life.
Today, Gurez stands at a painful turning point. The winters are still cold, but the snow that defines the landscape and the culture is vanishing. Locals now speak of “naked winters,” bare slopes and dry fields under a hard, empty sky.
Chilai Kalan Without Snow
Chilai Kalan, the 40‑day period from December 21 to January 31, has always been Kashmir’s harshest winter phase, designed by nature to bring deep snow and deep rest to the land. In the past, strong Western Disturbances marched in from the Mediterranean, releasing meters of snow that covered orchards, meadows, roofs, and roads. This snow:
* Protected the soil like a warm blanket.
* Stored water to slowly melt into rivers and springs in summer.
* Gave apple trees and other temperate crops the “chilling hours” they need to fruit well.
Gurez fitted perfectly into this rhythm. When Razdan Pass closed with heavy snow, the valley accepted its isolation as destiny. Herders moved animals to lower pastures, trusting that high meadows would rest and renew beneath 7–11 feet of snow, as in 2017 when avalanches and blocked routes were normal winter news.
But in the 2025–26 winter, the story has flipped. Temperatures in Kashmir dropped well below freezing, Srinagar around – 5.1°c, Sonamarg near -9.8°c yet the plains saw over 25 snowless days in the heart of Chilai Kalan. Gurez itself received only 8–12 inches of snow in early January, a poor shadow of earlier years. Radiation fog sharpened the cold, but the sky refused to open. Roads stayed open, vehicles kept moving, and people watched the mountains with a strange sense of unease: winter was here, but its soul, snow, was missing.
Climate Change: The Silent Sculptor Of Winter
The first and deepest force behind this change is climate change. Across the Himalayas, average temperatures have risen by roughly 0.2–0.5°C per decade. Warmer air pushes the freezing level higher. This means:
* What used to fall as snow at the village level now falls as cold rain.
* Reliable Western Disturbances arrive less often or with less intensity.
* Global patterns like El Niño and Arctic warming disturb the jet stream, making winters more erratic.
Satellite records show a 15–20% decline in snowfall over Kashmir since around 2000. Gurez, once buried under thick snow, now often sees thinner snowpacks, 20–30% below normal in deficit years. Warmer air holds more moisture, but it releases that moisture as snow only at higher altitudes. So the highest peaks may still turn white, while valleys remain brown.
In Gurez, this plays out as a cruel dance of freeze and thaw. A little snow falls, then a brief warm spell melts it. Bare dark soil appears, absorbs more sunlight, and warms faster. This warmth then delays or weakens the next snowfall. The valley enters a feedback loop where each snowless spell makes the next one more likely.
Human Footprints: Forests, Dams, And Concrete
Climate change does not act alone. Human activity across Kashmir and especially in the hilly areas like Gurez, has weakened the land’s natural defences.
Deforestation: Losing The Green Shield
Since the 1990s, Kashmir has been estimated to have lost more than a fifth of its forest cover. In Gurez, the loss of conifer forests on steep slopes for timber, fuelwood, and grazing is especially damaging. Trap moisture and help form clouds, keep soils cool and damp, stabilise slopes, feed springs and streams.
When forests thin out, air becomes drier, soils warm faster, and rain is favoured over snow. Erosion and landslides scar the valley, and evapotranspiration, the rising of water vapour from leaves, declines. Less vapour, fewer snow‑bearing clouds. Bare hills now reflect sunlight by day and radiate heat by night, making winters sharper but drier.
Kishanganga Project: A River Re‑Written
The Kishanganga hydroelectric project, a 330 MW dam operational since 2018, diverts the river through tunnels to a power station in Bandipora, cutting natural downstream flow through Gurez. Lower winter flows mean: Sections of the river freeze more easily, Aquatic life and fish migration routes are disrupted, Less evaporation from the river surface, drying the air that once fed local snowfall.
For the Dard community, the river is not just water; it is culture, livelihood, and memory. When its flow weakens, so does the valley’s emotional and ecological heartbeat. Many locals quietly observe that winters have felt leaner since the dam began. Lost meadows and forests under the reservoir, silt changes, and potential seismic risk add further pressure to an already fragile mountain system.
Concrete And Heat Islands: Warmth In The Wrong Season
From Srinagar to Bandipora and into Gurez, roads, barracks, and new tourism structures are slowly replacing pasture and fields. Concrete and asphalt create “heat islands”: They absorb heat in the day and release it at night. Local temperatures rise by 2–4°C in built‑up pockets. Thin layers of snow melt quickly, failing to build into a lasting snowpack.
Impervious surfaces also send rain and meltwater rushing away instead of letting it soak into the ground. Groundwater recharge falls by up to 40%, springs weaken, and the land dries faster. The same development that brings connectivity and security also, unintentionally, steals from winter its defining feature—soft, staying snow.
Gurez’s Agriculture: Fields Without Their White Blanket
For Gurez, snow is not decoration; it is survival. When heavy snow fails, agriculture suffers at every level.
Soil, Seeds, and Pests
Snow acts like a quilt on the land, keeping soil temperatures stable and protecting roots, bulbs, and microorganisms. Without it:
Roots of winter crops and perennials can freeze and die.
Germination slows or fails in exposed, frozen soil.
Repeated freeze‑thaw cycles crack the ground and stress plants.
Bare soil also warms unevenly when the sun shines, allowing many pests and pathogens to overwinter more easily. As temperatures rise slightly, insects and fungi climb to higher altitudes, bringing new diseases into Gurez’s once‑protected farms.
Apples, Walnuts, And Saffron Under Stress
Apple orchards, which support a large share of local incomes, need around 1,200 hours of chilling below 7°C to flower properly. In snow‑poor winters, trees bud too early during short warm spells, Flowers emerge irregularly and are hit by later frosts, and fruits grow deformed, smaller, or fewer in number.
Recent dry winters have already shown 30–50% yield losses in many areas, and Gurez risks the same pattern: farmers forced to borrow, shift crops, or abandon agriculture. Walnuts and saffron, both sensitive to winter and spring moisture, also suffer. With reduced snowmelt, irrigation water can drop by 40%, leaving fields thirsty at the very moment crops need a gentle, steady supply.
Herders face an equally hard time. Without snow to protect and recharge pastures, grasses dry early, and fodder becomes scarce. Families are pushed to sell or slaughter animals, breaking old grazing patterns that once balancedthe use and regeneration of meadows.
The result is a tightening ring around food security:
* Less local produce.
* Higher market prices.
* Greater dependence on imports and credit.
* Youth leaving the tradition of agriculture
Culture In A Time Of ‘Naked Winters’
Chilai Kalan is more than a date on a calendar in Kashmir; it is a season of the soul. Traditionally, families in Gurez and the wider Valley gathered around kangris, shared harissa and walnut delicacies, and recited poetry while storms roared outside. In Gurez, Shina ballads praised snow as a gift from the divine, a sign that the land would be fertile when spring came.
Now, elders look at the bare slopes and say, almost in disbelief, “These winters are naked”. Children grow up without the deep snow tunnels and roof‑high drifts their grandparents describe. Traditional snow games, migration timings, and rituals tied to the first heavy snowfall are fading. As young people migrate for education and jobs, many of these stories risk being carried away, never fully rooted in the next generation.
Yet the valley still holds its old charm: the roar of Kishanganga, log houses that feel almost European in style, and the majestic pyramid of Habba Khatoon watching over the river like a silent guardian. In summer, wildflowers, trout‑rich streams, and trekking routes towards Gangabal and Sonamarg remind visitors why Gurez is called a “hidden gem” of Kashmir. The tragedy is that the season that once defined it most, winter, is weakening before people’s eyes.
Paths Of Hope: Healing A Fragile Valley
Despite the grim trends, Gurez is not without hope. Forecasts for late January 2026 hint at light snowfall, a reminder that winters can still surprise. But relying only on chance is no longer enough. The valley needs thoughtful, urgent action.
Some practical routes forward include:
Regrowing Forests
* Community‑led plantation drives focused on native conifers and broadleaf species.
* Protecting existing forest patches from illegal felling and overgrazing.
Rethinking River Use
* Enforcing minimum environmental flows from dams so that Kishanganga remains a living river, not a pipeline.
* Regular ecological monitoring of fish, silt, and riverbank stability.
Cooling The Concrete
* Using more wood, stone, and traditional designs instead of only cement.
* Creating green belts, permeable paths, and roof gardens in newer constructions.
Climate‑Smart Farming
* Introducing varieties that can handle fewer chill hours and less water.
* Expanding rainwater harvesting, ponds, and small check‑dams to store precious melt and rainfall.
* Reviving traditional seed banks and farming wisdom adapted to local conditions.
Sustainable Tourism And Local Leadership
* Promoting eco‑friendly homestays and guided treks that respect carrying capacity.
* Ensuring that tourism income funds tree planting, pasture protection, and cultural documentation.
Gurez’s people have survived avalanches, isolation, and conflict. With their resilience and knowledge, they can also face climate change, but only if policy, science, and society walk with them.
Kashmir’s delayed snow is a clear warning. From Gurez’s roaring Kishanganga to the busy streets of Srinagar, the message is simple: restore the forests, respect the rivers, and tame the spread of concrete, or accept a future where white winters exist only in memory. Protecting the snow is protecting water, food, jobs, and stories all at once. The pulse of the Valley, and of Gurez in particular, depends on choices made now, while there is still some snow left to save.
The writer is a student of Environmental Sciences
bi********@***il.com