Far off in the distance, I caught glimpse of a tiny speck of color floating through the green, sky-high hills of the Andes. A smile so big it warmed my cheeks spread across my face; I realized I was watching a traditionally adorned woman heard sheep on the mountainside miles away. The hand-loomed alpaca garb these women spend endless hours perfecting is naturally dyed using local plants of all the colors imaginable. I don’t know if they look at it this way, but from afar the Andean people beautify the very hills they live in by their presence and ability to be one with the land. One of my favorite memories to date occurred as we descended down toward the valley of Lares after a long day of trekking. There in the hillside, overlooking her town with a bird’s-eye view, a woman sat peacefully weaving. When I think back on my journey, she remains there in my mind, perfectly in harmony with nature.