My Friend Cayambe
Constellations made of us
There’s glory in the dirt
A universe within the sand
Eternity within a man
We are ocean we are mist
Brilliant fools who wound and kiss
There’s beauty in the dirt
Wandering in skin and soul
Searching, longing for a home”
- I Am Mountain, by Gungor
When I go outside in the mornings, I look for Cayambe. Will she be out today? Will I see her? She's one of the snow-capped mountains of Ecuador, the sentinels reigning over the country along with Chimborazo and Cotopaxi. Cotopaxi always sounds like a brand name to me, and I give a secret smile. If there were a few less buildings in the way, I might be able to see Cotopaxi from my roof. If I climb onto my neighbor's roof and lean around, I can sometimes see a tiny corner of it. Cayambe though, stands in full view from my terrace. Most days though, she is blanketed in clouds, an invisible presence. The days when the sun blazes clear and the clouds are swept away, I catch my breath at the sight of Cayambe rising in all her white splendor.
When traveling, Mount Chimborazo was pointed out to me, though it wasn't fully visible. I jotted down a description from the bus:
The mountain was graceful and impressive, rising imperially yet obscured from full grandeur by clouds which hung low, hovering over the peak like the arms of a mother who wishes to protect her child, no matter how big she becomes.
I have this internal tug-of-war when wanting to someday scale a snow-capped peak, yet being fearful of the harsh, relentless cold. I've never been great about dealing with cold. I'm a sun child, born in the summer in Texas. Yet when I see breath-taking Cayambe, I think, maybe someday.
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