Lasting impressions of Cuerici



The clouds racing across the azure sky and piling up against the mountains like whipped cream

The gentle, crinkly eyes of Don Carlos smiling out from under his hat

Waking up to bright sunlight illuminating the pile of pink woolen blankets on my bed

The smell of wood smoke seeping up through cracks in the wooden floorboards

Fog sliding down the mountain through three hundred year-old trees encrusted with mosses and ferns

An intrepid cinnamon-colored doggy tearing unafraid up the mountain

Soft pink endangered moss forming soggy pillows in the treeless paramo.


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