I traverse the windy hillsides, hugging the curves of the Oaxacan Sierras where poinsettias and orchids grow wildly together..where fields of marigolds await celebrating the Day of the Dead. A land so dense and so rich, even the rocks reflect their glittered etches onto my window seal.. Small trickling creeks cascade down the roads and roaming rivers run through the mountains quenching the thirst of wild horses and float my body adrift. Clouds nestled low across the swaying, grassy fields and rest upon the mountains as pink, cantaloupe colored skies transition to a bouquet of purples, blues, yellows, and oranges. Oaxaca is a live painting with all of the richest pigments this world has to offer.. My eyes roam this painting..my heart swims its waters melting away every sore muscle of my body. I listen to its music.. The wind, the birds, the waves, the buzzing stillness creates the movement to the most beautiful song my ears have the honor of hearing