Looking down the Butterfly Valley
By Sergio Camalich
February 10, 2016 
Driving through the desert, a busy bar on the Caribbean, a dark café in Warsaw, stranded on an unknown road, a bunch of places I’ve never been before and a myriad of many more confusing acts—my mind is jumping from thought to thought at a scary speed.
Image after image showing up before me, like a fucked up nonsensical movie. Real and imaginary scenes blending together.
The constant worry of whatever’s gonna happen in the coming months, becoming tangible. The remembrance of the things I did and didn’t, still present in my skin.
Being Zen at Butterfly Valley, Turkey
And even though my eyes are open, I think I haven’t realized I’ve been staring at this view for who knows how long, without even blinking.
A screaming hawk pushes me back down to reality and I find myself sitting at the edge of the southern wall of the Butterfly Valley.
No other noise but the hushed sound of an overflowing waterfall to my back and the mellow splashing of the ocean up ahead, banded together in what seems to be a joint effort to take me far away from this place, even though I didn’t ask for it.
But hey! I am here. And I’m the only soul around. And I’m loving every single moment.
No matter what happens next, it’ll be good.
More pictures from the Butterfly Valley
The Butterfly Valley is a hippie paradise in Turkey
Going down the canyon
I found a beautiful Iris along the way
-
Moisés
