I woke up to the sound of crickets chirping outside. It seemed like a song they rehearsed over and over again at dawn until the sun was fully risen, and they would begin again every day until it went back behind the mountains. I memorized the words to their songs and sometimes even whistled along. But not this morning. It was far too early and I did not want to wake up the rest of the house, especially Mama, who seemed to always sleep with her ears open. I stepped out of my bed, and my barefeet hit the cool concrete floor. I looked over at my baby brother. Soft black hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat. How I envied his sweet ability to just fall asleep and forget about the worries, excitements and fears of the day. I kissed his cheek and was on my way. My bare feet made their way through the skinny hallways of our home, trying to make as little noise as possible.

I stepped off of our tiled floor onto to the dirt road. The sky was pitch black streaked with constellations and I could feel the cool breeze caressing my face. I walked over to the grassy area across from my home. I lay down in the soft ground in thought. Anticipation had stolen my ability to sleep. "Tomorrow is the day," I thought. I would leave Ocotepeque, and go with Abuela Tila to the mountains for the last time.
I remember the day that Mama told me it was my last summer. I had just come back and was telling her of all my adventures in the mountains as we were slicing the chicken for the soup.

"Mama," I said. "The mountains are so beautiful. You would have loved all the wild adventures that I had. I want you to come with me next summer."
“Mija, that sounds wonderful, but you realize that you cannot go back to the mountains again. You are going to be in high school next year and I need you to work the shop in town and prepare for your studies,” my mother said.
I felt my heart sink.
“No! Mama! This is not fair! I need to go back! What about Abuela Tila? What about the farm?” I asked.
“Mama Tila is a very strong woman!” My mother said laughingly. “She could run that whole town by herself. I wouldn’t worry about her.”
I put the knife down and sulked down the hallway into my room. I shut the door behind me and then sprawled out on my bed. Why did I have to be going to high school next year? It just didn’t make sense that I couldn’t go to Abuela Tila’s just because I was getting older. I mean Tila herself was about 85 years old and she’s able to stay in the mountains, so why couldn’t I. I flipped over onto my back and stared at the unfinished white painting of my roof. There’s nothing better than the mountains, I thought. If this year was my last before being too old to return, I was going to find a way to come back once more before then.
However, Mama was not one to give into pleas. I tried to get her attention in other ways, like dusting the windows or sweeping the tiles every single day. But Mama was so busy she didn’t notice a single thing.
  One morning, to our surprise, we woke up to an earlier than the milkman knock on the door. I came out of my room and found Abuelo and Abuela Tila sitting on the living room couch.
“Abuela!” I squealed in excitement. I ran towards Tila and leaped into her arms
“Hola, Bonita!” Tila said, as she pushed my long black hair behind my ear.
  “I have talked to your Mama, and we are excited to see you again this summer up in the mountains!”
I could not contain my joy. I could feel the excitement pulsing through me like electricity.
“ Of course!” I thought. Why hadn’t I remembered that the only person in this world more determined than my Mama, was my Abuela! She had talked to my Mama earlier in the morning and convinced her that it was best that I enjoyed my last summer before I had too many responsibilities.
Now there I was. The last night before my final summer, laying outside in the middle of the night instead of getting rest for the journey the next morning. I sat up and stretched my legs out in the long blades of grass. I dug my hand down and scooped out two handfuls of the earth. I let the coolness of the hardening mud squish through my fingers as I stared at the front of my house. I should really be going back to sleep.

Chapter 2:

I was packing my bag and Abuela Tila was already waiting for me outside. I packed my bible and my favorite blanket. Most everything I needed was already in the mountains waiting for me from last summer. I strapped on my leather sandals and tied my long black hair into a braid down my back. Walking towards the front door of my house I gave a quick kiss to my mother and a soft embrace to my father. I saw my older sister Paola knitting on the coach. I went over to her and gave her a friendly hug.
“Have fun hermanita,” Paola said. She was too old now to go up to the mountains, but I could tell that she missed it dearly, although she never said so. I threw my sack over my shoulder and head out the door. On the dirt paved road, I saw Abuela Tila ready to leave. She was on her donkey and my little brother David was behind her. It was his first time ever going to the mountains and he looked more sleepy than excited. Then I saw my donkey. Her name was Tamborosa. They called her this because her belly was very large and would sag down towards the floor. She was dark grey and I loved her more than anything. I gave her a quick kiss on the snout, slung my pack on her, and climbed up on her back.
We began riding up the dirt road out of town and eventually into the mountains. Tamborosa climbed over every rock as I looked at the beautiful trees and flowers. All the pines and oak trees cast a shadow on the trail, sheltering us from the harsh beams of the sun. It was about a twenty minute trudge from Ocotepeque to the mountains. Finally, as my throat began feeling dry and my legs began to ache from riding Tamborosa, the beautiful meadow came into view. Right in the center was Abuela’s tiny home. We pulled up towards the side of the house and I hopped off Tamborosa. I tied her up next to Abuela Tila’s donkey then ran inside. The house was only one room, and I loved it. Three beds were ready made in the entryway of the house. I remember Abuela telling me that Abuelo made those beds from sticks in the forest and hay from the barn. Draped over the stack of hay, were two blankets. I took out my bible and placed it under the bed. Abuela Tila and David finally entered the house.
“Abuela Tila,” I said. “I am very hungry.”
“Why don’t you go bring David to the shack and show him Reina Leche?” Abuela answered. I grabbed David’s hand and ran out the door. We walked around the house to the back. To the left of the vegetable garden was the shack that had most the animals. Except for the chickens, which were running around in their fenced area towards the side of the house. I opened the door of the shack and the scent of old hay and farm animals overwhelmed us in a gust. David quickly covered his face in his hands. The scent didn’t bother me anymore. But I recalled the very first time I ever came up to the mountains with Paola. I didn’t go into the shack until the very last week of the whole summer because of the smell. I grabbed David’s shoulders and guided him into the shack. I had missed all of the animals so much. I walked him to the very back of the shack were Reina Leche was. I grabbed the bucket from the shelf and knelt down on the ground next to her.
“Hola Reina Leche,” I said. “I’ve missed you very much.” I patted her belly and then reached down to the utters. As I was milking Reina Leche, David squealed in excitement.
“Want to try?!” I asked David.
“Sure!” he said. As soon as he touched the utters, he screamed playfully and ran inside. “It took me a while to get used to it too,” I thought.  As soon as I had a bucketful of milk, I kissed Reina Leche on the head and made my way inside.
“Okay David,” I said. Now I am going to show you how to make a delicious treat that we make every summer.”
I reached up into the cabinet and grabbed the basket filled with cinnamon sticks. I asked David to go grab a large rock from outside. When he returned with the rock, we crushed the cinnamon sticks until they were ground into a powder. I asked Abuelo to get the fire started in the oven. We heat up the milk and then dumped in two giant spoonfuls of cinnamon.
“Buen Provecho!” David laughed.
We brought our drinks outside and sat down on the slab of dirt out back and watched Abuela pick the vegetables for dinner.
“Abuela!” I shouted. “Can we go on the blackberry hike before dinner?”
“Si mi amor, but please be careful and do not be back after the sunset.” Abuela replied.
I was thrilled. The blackberry hike was my favorite adventure. It looked like this time Abuela was not coming with us and I would be in charge.
“Come on David!” I smiled. I guess there were perks to being older this summer.

Chapter 3

We ventured off onto the trail. The sun had moved away from the center of the sky so that the air felt cool on your skin. I looked around me and could hear the birds chirping like a symphony. It reminded me of the symphony of the crickets back home, but much more elaborate. I had also memorized the sweet tunes of the birds, like the words to an old song you will never forget. We reached the blackberry bush, and I showed David which blackberries we were looking for. The ones with the deepest dark purple and navy blue coloring, and the roundest, juiciest seeds. We managed to fill our baskets to the top with the berries, snacking on a few as we collected.
“David, I want to show you one more thing.” I said. He eagerly agreed. We took a right turn from the blackberry bush and made our way up. We still had about twenty minutes until the sun hid back behind the north mountain. We climbed through the pine trees and the oaks. I inhaled the scent of the pine needles and the sap, and I felt at ease. I remembered a time when I was David’s age and Abuela and I were on this same trail. In a pine tree to my left, I saw two newly hatched pigeons. Their tiny bodies and wings were still curled up in balls and their eyes were still shut. I quickly snatched the nest and put it inside my bag. As soon as we got home I showed Abuela. She was angry but when she realized there was nothing else we could do, we brought the baby birds into the house and nurtured them the whole summer until they were old enough to fly away.
I hoped that David has the same memories that I did of the mountains. We finally reach the peak of the hill. Sunset had just begun and it looked like a masterpiece of colors gently brushed across the sky. Strong hues of deep oranges, pinks and purples were blended together in a divine arrangement. I brought David to the edge of the mountain and showed him the deep and majestic canyon of Pine trees and cotton tailed deer. I looked at his face and could see the amazement in his eyes. He had never seen anything like it before in his life. I lied down in the grassy field and stared at the sky. The sun was setting in a fiery blaze and I was in the middle of the most beautiful place on earth. I realized that it was time to leave, for I didn’t want to upset Abuela Tila. As we descended from heaven itself, I remember thinking, this is what it must feel like to be completely and perfectly content. The mountains were where I belonged.
Now I am in University and I have not been to the mountains in 5 years. Nevertheless, we were never separated for a minute. The spirit and memory of the mountains forever lives in my heart, the scents of the tree’s and purple wildflowers are forever inhaled through my noise and the soft fur of the animals will always be in my touch. I am returning to the mountains this summer to help Abuela in her old age. Nothing ever had changed in the mountains year to year, and when I return, the same hills, sunsets, and towering pines will greet me just the same.