Peru - Love letter to Machu Picchu
You are so beautiful, resting there on this mountain, between even higher holy peaks, at the end of a valley. When the sun wakes you in the early morning, the beams of light penetrating the clouds, getting caught in the dew drops on the still damp grass. Oh Machu Picchu, your creators were smart, seeking such a place for you. The Spaniards didn't track you down, couldn't destroy you. You slumbered peacefully, almost untroubled, until Hiram Bingham made you famous about a century ago.
He ended your tranquil sleep. Now thousands of people meander through your structure, they want to paw you, trample on you. They scream "Get out of the picture", when one is standing in their view, taking the 347. photo. They want you all on their own, nobody in front of them, nobody stopping them from crossing the blockades. I don't take myself out of this. I would love to sit there unmolested, for hours, on one of the terraces near the Guards' House, I would love to study all the buildings, caress your walls, and watch the sun wandering across the sky, continuosly giving you new shades. But no, no one remains alone here. And I only have half a day to explore as much of you as possible.
You know how to bewitch people. They not only visit you, because you are gorgeous, but because they want to take in your energy. They dance on top of you, pray, set themselves in a state of trance. Shamans, esoterics, astrologers interpret you as a tremendous powersource. They wear crystals around their necks, listen to New-Age preachers and utterly ignore that there is no valid proof for any mysterious relation with your existence. Some even suggest that aliens protect your so-called energy vortex. Maybe they interpret their admiration for your grace as the imaginary power source. Until today, no one really knows why you were created - some assume, you were a place of pleasure for the leading Inca, with many willing ladies. But you don't reveal us your secret. You remain calm and you bear all those, who search for a higher meaning, as you bear the hippies, the adventurers and the smarty-pants.
I stick to that, which I can see with my own eyes. Nevertheless you are giving me a hard time, enjoying all of your sides. Don't get me wrong: It was no mistake, climbing the steep peak of Huayna Picchu, from which I had a breathtaking view on your terrain. But the 400 metres in altitude, climbing over small, big, crooked and scores of steps, were not really delightful. And in the interests of esoteric belief, they were more strength-sapping than a booster for more energy. But I will not complain: The adorable Lamas - often blocking my way, then looking naively at me, before continuing their trudge - compensate for every strain. Not to mention the stunning view from the highest point.
Your terraces emanate a marvelous elegance, your winding narrow paths with the jointless stone walls, give evidence of architectural brilliancy. I have seen you on thousands of pictures and I frequently asked myself, if you truly are as majestic as the ideal image, which formed in my head from innumerable fragments. The answer is clear: Beyond any doubt you are more graceful, more impressive than any description could ever convey. Oh Machu Picchu, you are so beautiful and our time together just so limited. But maybe we will meet each other again.
Read this article in German: http://www.wbuerkle.de/news/peru-liebesbrief-an-machu-picchu1/
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