Words cannot describe the majesty of Machu Picchu. When we arrived at the ruins, we were submerged in cloud. Somewhat frustrated and a little concerned that the fog would persist the remainder of the day and ruin our high hopes of taking some postcard-perfect shots of the small village, we climbed up the neighboring mountain with the idea that an ariel view would be clearer. To our disspointment, it wasn't. Yet, just as we were about to toss our notion of a clear sky away and retire back down the mountain, the thick cloud draped over Machu Picchu started to vanish. Like an artist pulling away a cloth to unveil his masterpiece sculpture, the sheet of clouds slid off the side of the mountain and underneath, the village eminated green. My travel companion and I were speechless. I have must have taken over 40 photos just sitting at the top of the hill.