This evening… sitting out on the covered portion of Casita Colibrí’s terrace, birds are chattering, wind chimes are tinkling, the occasional flincher is exploding in the distance, horns are honking (who knows what is blocking traffic on Morelos), church bells have begun chiming, and big rain drops are plopping down on the tin roof. The wind has planes, on their approach to Oaxaca’s little airport, flying over Casita Colibrí. Am I really here… in Southern Mexico?
And then, the sunset…
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