The day that Bert flew out in his own plane it was near gale force winds. A bitter cold fell across the valley. It brought in solemnity, beauty, and a sense of isolation as if they were the only people living on the planet. Radio broadcasts were from another solar system light years away. It was as if the bitter cold not only froze the ponds, lakes, rivers, streams, ground and trees, but life and time itself. Amid the loneliness in the valley smoke rose from three chimney’s of three homes in a wilderness far north from the strange creatures and teeming life of the Galapagos Islands. In comparison life might seem nonexistent, but it was there, it was in the heart and spirit of the Thurston family.
Alex and Consuelo helped each other wrestle with fur coats. The stepped outside and stood on the front porch. Alex wiped new fallen snow from the porch’s railing. Wind swept into the valley from the west. Light snow blew across the airstrip below. Dark clouds hung over the mountains to the west. The pines stood tall like sentinels and hung heavy with snow.
“Will we be safe here, Alex?” Consuelo said.
“Yes, my dear Consuelo,” Alex said. “We will be safe here.”
“Will we ever be able to leave?” Consuelo said.
“Do you want to?” Alex said.
“No,” Consuelo said. “I don’t think this place will ever let me leave.”