Censo

This morning in Ecuador everyone who has a house is at home. 

No cars, no buses, no engine breaks or plumes of black smoke.  It's so quiet I can hear the chickens across the river clucking and crowing.  It's so quiet it almost feels like home. 

Today is the national census.  To facilitate a successful census, the government has mandated a day at home, sans alcohol (ley seca, or "dry law").  I am an enthusiastic supporter of this day of forced stillness.  It's like a snow day without snow.  It's like Christmas: the gift is found in the silence. 

I just ate with my two normal-sized cups of coffee (drunk from a mug given to me by a thoughtful visitor) a biscotti (sent in the mail from a wonderful woman in South Dakota).  This morning I feel somehow close to everything I love.  All it took was a little bit of quiet.



Nina.




Puesta del sol (sunset).  Last week sometime.