When I was in the Sacred Valley, with my head still filled with the beautiful images of Machu Picchu, my group was treated to a picnic.
It was a warm sunny day and on the grassy area behind our hotel, blankets were set out and a low table set for a relaxed luncheon in the sun.
On the other side of us, a small river flowed, a few birds sang, and the house llama grazed nearby. Did it feel like a scene from a book? So lovely and picturesque? Yes it did.
When I think about that moment where everything just seemed right and was meant to be, I think about lying on the grass, gazing out a river and realizing how lucky I was to be there. It wasn’t just the tasty fare of sandwiches, salads and fresh fruit that made the luncheon memorable, or the good company, but the combination of all three.
And now months later, as I feel the cold air of winter and see the snow clinging to the buildings and sides of the streets, I try to envision that bucolic image of dining al fresco surrounded by beauty and serenity.