When you wake up in Guatemala, the mountains reach out to welcome you. Their sloping, ancient roots rise up like fingers from underneath a mossy blanket.
Outside is green and gold. The sky, pale and new like a bowl of milk.
Dizzy yellow light seeps through the clouds, spilling onto the lap of the valley and illuminating creamy wisps of vapor that have settled lazily on the treetops.
The quietness is sublime.
I used to think that all beauty was obvious and full of grandeur, like the mountains I woke to every morning in Guatemala. But over the course of my time there, I was reminded that beauty comes in many forms and is often found in the places and people you least expect it to inhabit. READ MORE