El Ávila National Park
Canaima Heaven has a fragment of colors in each line of clouds. It looks like the reflection of the waters of Lake Maracaibo, the Atlantic waters between wisps of clouds seem to bring with sirocco iridescent plumage of a peacock. The sky changes colors like a chameleon, dyed green, sky blue and violet. It reflects Arabian waters where so many rivers, says Romulo Gallegos, the earth seems squeezed to give so many pure waters. Hundreds of streams that feed these great waters appear also reflected in the sky.
This sky, piece of Venezuela, has been parading hundreds, thousands of men from the tribes of fierce Caribbean, Spanish troops lost in the thicket of weeds trying to find a clearing in the dense jungle, up the ragged they walked along Bolivarian troops, dressed in what might be found in a ceaseless struggle, rather than against the Spanish enemy, against the forces of nature untamed. The Canaima sky might well tell a long story.
You can not talk Canaima sky, still talk about that novel Romulo Gallegos immense bearing the same name. The waters he says, but also heaven, seems colored by the blood of the rubber that dragged rivers tributary to the ocean. The sky is stained with Canaima Catatumbo lightning in Zulia, Maracaibo lake, feeding infinite launches with thousands of branches which color lights twilight.
That piece of sky Canaima, feeding foam Angel Falls, which also gives it its color. The palette of nature has been kind to this earth. This was in the early nineteenth century, leaving a Europe obsessed with blood and beheadings of Dr. Guillotin, a German named Alexander Von Humboldt. Cumana departed across the Upper Orinoco, watching nature here was more exuberant than in his native Germany. Humboldt, on a summer afternoon, fanning herself with some manuscript surely botany, had to contemplate this Canaima sky, thinking that perhaps nowhere else in the world can see these overtones of light clouds Venezuela only be decomposed, with those color dyes or Boticcelli got.