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A Cup of Tea for A Dragon

A Cup of Tea for A Dragon

A silvery wisp of mist circles through the air in a curl around my nose, sneaking in a through the part in my lips- to fill the deepest corners of my chest. The kids exchanged sidelong glances as the mystic clouds rose far above our heads. They crept into the sky before falling heavily over the mountains like a mysterious, opaque cloak.

We strung our fingers together and whispered into the silence of a forgotten place. Even the dogs paused, just a few steps before us, looking back with hesitation. Our presence filled the air with the sticky hint of intrusion, as if an ancient spirit hovered nearby, warning us to head back.

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The Bride of Cotopaxi

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The Bride of Cotopaxi

As our humble, able red truck crackled along the crunchy mud roads, our children hung from the windows breathing in the thick, foggy air. It smelled of mint and eucalyptus, pine and grass, wet soil and spring blooms. The silence ached in our ears like the space in time after the last note of a favorite song.

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