I walk up five flights of metal stairs in the canopy tower, to the top deck. The early morning is blue with fog and drenched in beads of dew. When layers of fog separate, glimpses of the rainforest’s canopy are visible. When the fog dissipates even more, I see toucans traveling through valleys, and beyond those valleys, great ships plying the canal waters.
The Aztecs believed that the toucan's brilliant beaks were created by the rainbows, and that a toucan sighting meant the Gods were offering a gift of rain. It is a nice story, and one I prefer to imagine over the rather dull scientific explanation that toucan beaks attract mates.
This place, so rich in biodiversity, is the perfect place for me to conclude our conversation. This place, with its monkeys, and birds, and beetles, and vines, this place is a perfect place to illustrate our differences.
It’s been several months ago that you and I became friends. Months ago, I was intrigued to have received an email from a pastor I have never heard of. When you, a total stranger, sent me a political email, I was astonished and intrigued, and I responded back.