March 28, 1985 … my rebirthday … 27 years ago.
March 28, 1996 … our engagement day … 16 years ago.
DaRonn traveled this year so I chose to spend this special morning on the top of a tall hill in our city. Since Cochabamba technically forms part of the Andes mountain range I could stretch it and say I spent the morning on a mountain top.
The morning mist lingered after a rainy night. Birds, my only companions, hunted moths and chirped an echoing chorus. Breath made visible by the low temps puffed out of my lungs in bursts as I trekked the stairs up to the statue of Christ.
The day’s breaking came slow. Traffic noise from the streets crept along like a trickle of water along a creek bed that would soon become a stream. From the southeast ridge a voice carried a song. I follow the source and laid eyes on the squatters tarp. The folk rhythm, unhindered and pure, conjured visions of a time before concrete and wires tangled the basin in it’s modernity.
The stunning creation rejuvenated me as I communed with Our Creator.
Faces came to mind as I prayed while surveying the cityscape.
As the sun rose the people did too. A group from a boys preparatory school raced to the top. A father pointed out his small children landmarks below. A business man meandered with a coffee in hand. A photographer crouched down for a good angle of a stray dog yawning awake. Friends walked linked at the elbow. Boys kicked a soccer ball around and laughed loud.
I felt my nose start to burn as the clouds dispersed. I smile at the populous and then wandered down the steps to my truck. My thoughts turned back to daily tasks. Lunch to be made. Homework to oversee. Chores to be done. I left with a heart grateful for a morning at “Cristo de la Concordia”.