I must admit, my heart skipped a couple beats at the thought of reading it that night as a bedtime story. It’s one of those children’s stories I actually enjoy reading at least as much as my daughter likes hearing it. I may have even felt a little guilt as I self-indulgently read it in my best Cajun-Creole accent (the phonetically spelled words made me feel like a pro). Pure pleasure!
Originally posted on imperfectprogress.me:
“Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out that going to the mountains is going home; that wildness is a necessity” ― John Muir, Our…
All I need is the balcony and a warm cup of tea in hand to feel comfortable and settled. And the days begin to blend, one into the other, as we make a temporary home, half a world away in this busy city.
Day 6: Back to Quito
The city is not at all quiet, but somehow we quickly find peace here.
Day 5: Chugchilan to Quilotoa I’m in the middle of explaining what today will be like to Lilah, as we head down a hill and out of Chugchilan for our last day of… Continue reading
My thoughts drift to the Andean men and women who live in these valleys and on these hills, their fields straight up the side of a mountain. It’s a wonder to me their crops ever take root at all on such a slope, but they do, all by hand with shovels and hoes and fingers.