Secret Green

An endless sea of green washes slowly by as I sit on the bus from Cancún to Mérida. There’s a conspiracy that wants me to believe that the waves of that sea are all same same same. That the leaves are all from the same kind of bush, that the trees all have the same name, that there’s nothing else, no hares on the ground, no butterflies traveling from flower to flower. But I know. The magic of this ocean opens up only to those who respect how long, how very long it takes for the mystery to reveal itself.

From Guest Contributor Isabella Mori