A bus window in 2006, a plateau lifted out of the landscape, two rivers curling around the base like a moat.
The valley fell open, and there it was: a plateau lifted out of the landscape, a small town and its farms balanced on top, two rivers curling around the base like a moat. I said it out loud, to no one. Oh my God. It's an island in the sky.
The bus dropped into the canyon in long, patient switchbacks, crossed one bridge, then another, and climbed the far wall until the road lifted us onto the mesa and into Cahuasquí itself. I haven't really left since.
From the cabin patios it still feels exactly the way it did from that bus window, a piece of land floating between two rivers, held by mountains on every side, sitting a little closer to the clouds.
