Along a hillside neighborhood above the quaint town of Cuenca, is a poetic black cow who I quickly named "Wordsworth". He is a romantic who forever wears a white heart on its forehead.
Wordsworth has seen an influx of expats from North America and Europe to this city with a river running through it. He understands that they like the warmth of the locals, the charm of the colonial architecture, its urban parks, inspiring cathedrals and the reasonable cost of living.
This Andean city, surrounded by green hills and mountains, is situated at a 8200 foot elevation, which is pleasant during the daytime yet can be a bit chilly in the evenings.
Wordsworth communicated that he enjoys chewing his cud with this magnificent view of Cuenca.