Guatemala Micro Lot

There's a coffee farm in the middle of Antigua, right there among the ruined convents and the taco stands and the yellow arch everyone photographs. Sixteen hectares of it, downtown, under three volcanoes, one of which smokes on the skyline like it's thinking something over. The trees are bourbon and some of them are 135 years old, bent all the way down until their tops brush the ground, like they got tired of standing up straight a century ago. The same family's had the place since 1850. Cranberry and orange in the cup, brown sugar settling under it. You'd walk right past the gate and never know a coffee this old was growing behind it.