On my flight, I strayed from my norm and grabbed an aisle seat. And as we descended, I watched with jealousy as passengers pressed their faces to the windows to look out upon a still-sleeping Guatemala. As their heads bobbed and peeled away slightly, I caught glimpses of the morning sky on fire to my left and a smoldering volcano on my right
As the man next to me made futile attempts at pictures only to be dismayed by unintended camera flashes, I smiled because this is how it works here. Beauty is fleeting and temporary, and like the air we breathe, nearly impossible to catch on camera, stunning in a way you can't begin to capture.
But when you're really lucky, you don't have to chase it. It soaks you up and whisks you off until you yourself are apart of it.
A transformation that claims all of who you are, where beauty takes root and makes its home in the creases of your eyes.