A Monteverde Adventure: My Quest for the Quetzal
I searched the branches with my tiny binoculars for a splash of red. There were a few Crested Guan roosted in the branches, but no Quetzal that I could see.
I searched the branches with my tiny binoculars for a splash of red. There were a few Crested Guan roosted in the branches, but no Quetzal that I could see.
This experience taught me to treat every trip as its own living entity. If I allow it, Life will put me exactly where I need to be.
As I stepped off the plane in the Arlanda Airport, a flood of memories nearly bowled me over. I was back where it all began.
By the time I arrived in France, my monstrous suitcase was not only ridiculously awkward in size, but it was also pushing fifty pounds.
“Sure! No problem. I’m on it,” was all I could manage, hoping I didn’t look as shocked and out of sorts as I felt. We hashed out a few details, then I was left to figure it out.
Though the city has seen incredibly dark times, it stands out in my mind as a beacon of light and hope, a shining example of resilience.
Signs, glimmers, winks, and nudges — these are the unexplainable coincidences and serendipitous moments that give us the feeling there might be something else at play.