10“Hurry, hurry,” said Lama, waking us up. “We don’t have much time.”
No breakfast, just coffee and we were off.
The morning was warm and the path went gently up and down as we walked beside the river. Mom was full of caffeine, chattering away.
“Bet you never heard of a muntjac,” said Mom.
“No, Mom,” I said, patiently. “I have never heard of a muntjac.”
“They are the oldest species of deer. They bark just like dogs. Supposedly, you can hear them in these mountains.”
“Not if you’re talking all the time,” I answered.
“I wish I could talk to Isabelle, I’m dying to be with Dirk, I want to take a yoga class, I need a warm bath, I am desperate to make corn bread, I want...”
“Mom, would you just shut up!” I said. “Listen to the birds.”
Mom paused for a full ten seconds. “The birdsong rem
