Furniture made from the wood of the guayaba tree.
Our room is incredible.
I am feeling quite emotional this morning, looking through my photos, stepping outside into paradise, gazing up into the hills.
As my eyes climb the tropical mountainside, past the impossibly steep garden patches of corn growing perpendicular to the ground, my mind began reciting: "I lift mine eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help....Maker of Heaven and earth....". My soul feels like its being stirred here, among this greenery, away from the ice cold snow and ice in my country and sometimes in my self.
I'm sitting in the shade, the Ecuadorian sun so bright and intense, it pierces yesterday's sunburnt neck. On the ground in front of me, the vegetation is dotted with droplets of moisture. Even the terra cotta roof grows plant life here. The rock pathways are beautified with lush, green moss.
I think the tears come because
There are no words
And yet my heart craves the release of expression.
Here I am in this place.
Somehow still me
on a Monday morning in spring.
My things tell me I'm really here.
Yet when I raise my eyes unto those hills,
I can hardly believe.