Day 8: Where the Boats Rest

Today I visited the floating islands of the Uros and it felt like drifting through a place out of time. The boat cut gently across the calm surface of Lake Titicaca, the sunlight reflecting off the water in shifting patterns.

As we approached the islands, I saw the reeds rise out of the water, forming layers of land that seemed both fragile and permanent. The Uros greeted us warmly and showed us how they build their islands and homes from the same reeds that surround them.

I wandered through the small settlement, noticing the intricate patterns woven into the reeds beneath my feet. I sat for a while, listening to the soft breeze carry the sound of children's laughter across the lake. There was something peaceful about the way life moved here - slowly, gently, in rhythm with the water.

I sketched the scene, focusing on the curve of a boat leaning against a reed house, its edges softened by age. It felt like everything here-every object, every gesture-was part of a quiet conversation between the people and the lake.

As the sun began to sink behind the hills, we made our way back to shore, the islands slowly fading into the horizon. It was a day of silence and simplicity, a moment to appreciate life lived lightly on the surface of the water.