Arriving early afternoon to Yumani village on lake Titicaca, I had decided to hoof it to the north end of the island and the ruins at Chincana. As I approached, the dying light began to settle behind silver and blue thunderheads off in the distance and the little light remaining fell onto the Roca Sagrada below me, red and golden. It was here that it is said the civilization of the Inca was born. I stayed awhile and felt the warm sun of the day return off the rocks and wished this sacred place well, and until we met again. As I walked the 9 km back to Yumani along the spine of the island, an ancient stone pathway set into rolling sienna colored earth, the stars shined above and occasionally lightening flashed from across the lake to the east. There was not a sound nor soul. It was only me, my hungry belly, cold face, tired feet, and fulfilled heart, racing through the perfect darkness of the Isla del Sol.