Off in the distant

The mountains stand tall

In the converging mist

The morning air cool

The sun not yet appeared

Dark shadows cover the highlands

It is the season to be dry

 

The Rio Trentino meanders

Through the lower valley

Arching boughs over the water

Of a near dry river bed

Mist rises from the river

To mingle with the smoke

Of the breakfast fires

From the brick and mud chozas

 

The sky becomes enlightened

The mountains and highlands

Ghostly in the moving mist

Open fields cover the hillsides

In shades of green and brown

Ganado appear on the exposed hills

Flights of Garza wing overhead

Gleaming snow white in the mist

To land among the Ganado

Feeding on stirred up insects

As the Ganado graze

 

The air is alive

With flights of parrots

Flocking to the soybean fields

For their morning feed

The air is warming

The sun rays filtering

Through the shadowy mist

To enlighten the highlands

With bands of light

 

Black Vultures take to the skies

To catch the air thermos

Warming in the morning air

Gliding high above the land

Searching for carrion

The throaty haunting cries

Of the Congo monkeys

Echoes upon the mountains

As they feed upon fruit and leaves

High in the tree branches

Along the Rio Trentino River

 

The mist is thinning

A sun lit El Chile emerges

From the swirling mist

Regal and graceful behind

The rolling sunlit hills

Billowing white clouds appear

A golden glow enshrines

The rugged mountain scene

A momentary spectacle

That is soon lost

The wind is increasing

Blowing from the north

A haze now appears

With the mist frittering away

Leaving a hazy scene

As the morning advances