"It's real!" were Maria's thoughts upon seeing the island from the plane. "It's not some fantasy!" There's so much talk about Cuba, amongst us Cuban exiles. For we who left too young to remember sights, the talk fills our minds with imaginings that get mixed into the realty of what our sense of smell remembers.
Though we returned to Cuba in different years, both Maria and I touched down onto our birth island under dramatic weather conditions. Maria's plane landed in Havana in an intense lightning and thunder storm. My plane landed in Santiago in the midst of Hurricane Lili.
Outside our plane window, through the clouds and rain, we gazed in awe at the magnificent green of Cuba's tropical vegetation, bending in the wet wind, against the most radiant red soil. My parents say that Cuba is fourth in the world for high iron content in soil.
A fullness in spirit accompanied the feast for our eyes. We felt our hearts explode with the intensity which cries from the earth of Cuba, from it's people and its history.
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