Tsomoriri Wetland Conservation Reserve

Tsomoriri Wetland Conservation Reserve

Tsomoriri or Lake Moriri (official name: Tsomoriri Wetland Conservation Reserve), is lake in the Changthang (literally: northern plains) area in Jammu and Kashmir. The lake is at an altitude of 4,595 m (15,075 ft); it is the largest of the high altitude lakes in the Trans-Himalayan biogeographic region, entirely within India. The lake sits between Ladakh, India to the North, Tibet to the east, and Zanskar in the west.

The lake is fed by springs and snow-melt from mountains on the Changthang plateau. Water enters the lake in two major stream systems, one entering the lake from the north, the other from the southwest. Both stream systems create extensive marshes where they enter the lake. It formerly had an outlet to the south, but this has become blocked and the lake has become land locked. As a result, the water is now becoming saline. The lake was a source of salt for local people until 1959. this is reflected in the lake's name; Tsokar means salty lake in local language.

The lake is oligotrophic in nature, and its waters are alkaline.

Accessibility to the lake is limited to summer season only.

Read more about Tsomoriri Wetland Conservation Reserve:  Topography, Access, Hydrology and Water Quality, Avifauna and Flora, Threats To The Lake, Conservation Efforts, World Wildlife Fund’s (WWF) Role, See Also

Famous quotes containing the words conservation and/or reserve:

    The putting into force of laws which shall secure the conservation of our resources, as far as they may be within the jurisdiction of the Federal Government, including the more important work of saving and restoring our forests and the great improvement of waterways, are all proper government functions which must involve large expenditure if properly performed.
    William Howard Taft (1857–1930)

    I understood that all the material of a literary work was in my past life, I understood that I had acquired it in the midst of frivolous amusements, in idleness, in tenderness and in pain, stored up by me without my divining its destination or even its survival, as the seed has in reserve all the ingredients which will nourish the plant.
    Marcel Proust (1871–1922)