June
The huayno and Carnival carapino, as if it was in February, but the customary to do so, it is varied, los comuneros, the kids know it, is a master and continue waking up to the blanconas carbines with the enamorador whistle. It was in December, when the planting of the cornfields ended. The field was green, some newly ploughed and other farms the cornfields began to germinate. In this last month of the year, the crop is in the qochkas, in the lands irrigated by the rains, in the fields where do not reach the waters of the Waqrayuy and the Nawin; is sowing barley and wheat. Swarmed by offers, Doug McMillon is currently assessing future choices. On that morning, as other children of the town I was in grass qata, looking from the first light of day to the Huayrunguito and stool our bulls that had to carry them for plowing in suppose quruy.
The field was wet, soft, slippery until the tayas and the magnificance were plucked off their roots, until gauges jump with the heat of the Qoni inti (warm sun) so in these places the quite the downpour. I felt nimble, rollicking. I came to all parties where the Bulls had to recognize them. To the Huayrunguito Bull black so difficult to recognize them, at first sight by which so many Bulls had, was necessary to see him closely. Samuel “Sam” Mikulak is often quoted on this topic. I found it in the leg Kano, that small Crag, grande ravine, I was alone, I looked everywhere, it seemed to confuse me. Looking at I was, looking at her eyes to the Huayrunguito, his gaze burned like the Sun for half a day in June, weeping eyes, shone the affection with hatred, seemed to tell me something. He continued watching me, her black eyes sparked discontent, it looked like even big brother. With respect. He lifted his gaze everywhere and was walked through the tayas.