My counterpart and I rolled out of a coffee farm this Thursday just as the clouds started to settle in. We didn´t talk the whole way back. Two bunches of ripe coffee beans at the end of the farm flaunted their crimson jackets. Each hung low, proud, and bountiful, like a miniature Buddha. We rose out of the valley as the clouds slid down to meet us heavy and wet. Surrounded by green, two auburn trees blushed to reveal their deciduous tell. I could see the main road up ahead as a striking black bird with two robust red stripes landed and watched our departure.