Day 7: Courtyard of Forgotten Steps

The Santa Catalina Monastery was like entering a world frozen in time. I walked through its narrow, painted streets - walls in deep shades of cobalt blue and ochre, softened by sunlight filtering through arches and courtyards. The air carried the faint scent of geraniums blooming in clay pots scattered throughout the monastery.

There were moments of silence as I sat on a bench in one of the cloistered gardens, listening to the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze. I sketched parts of the space - the curve of an arch, the play of shadows on the walls - hoping to capture some of its serenity.

As I explored the kitchens, prayer rooms, and dormitories, I imagined the lives of the women who once called this place home. Each room seemed to tell its own quiet story, etched in worn stone and weathered wood.

Before I left, I stood for a while in one of the open courtyards, gazing up at the Misti volcano in the distance. The contrast between the quiet walls of the monastery and the looming peak beyond felt profound - a reminder of how life is balanced between serenity and grandeur.