People and places

sitting

TAKING A WALK around downtown Tuesday with my Canon and my Kindle in my little black, faux leather, man bag, I snapped these two photos.

Above are well-fed señoras sitting on a sidewalk killing time. Below is one of the most photographed scenes in our city, something constructed during Spanish Colonial days.

(Note: A slightly different version of the two women, plus other stunning, black & white, photos can be found, as always, on my photography site, Eyes of the Moon.)

spain

La vida buena

AS AMERICA sinks daily into a deeper sea of racial strife, political snit and socialism, it’s fun to kick back and smile due to living elsewhere.

That elsewhere, of course, is Mexico, a nation on an upward trajectory. If you do not live in Mexico, here’s a lovely video to make you wish you did, and if you do live here, you can gloat and feel smug, as I do.

The video, a series of photos actually, was made by Jack Brock, a wood sculptor of considerable renown, who once was kind enough to pay me a visit here on the mountaintop.

It was also Jack Brock who inspired me to buy my new Canon camera recently. He has virtually the same camera, his being a bit more modern, a tad more pricey. No matter. Both take excellent photos.

The video illustrates Mexico beautifully, and the soundtrack is perfect. It’s important to point out, however, that it’s tropical Mexico, the coastal variety, which is a fine place to live if you enjoy heat and bugs.

The alternative to coastal Mexico is the nation’s interior plateau, the zone of “eternal springtime” you read about. That’s where I live. Here’s a photo taken near here with my old, funky camera a few years ago.

vista

Sparrow on the edge

bird

SIX WEEKS AGO we returned from a two-night visit to San Miguel de Allende, which is about a three-hour drive northeast of here.

During our stay in that artsy Gringo town that rests prettily in the desert we drove a short distance north to Dolores Hidalgo and paid about 30 bucks for this spectacular birdbath.

On returning to the Hacienda, I set up the birdbath in the same spot where another bath, totally brown and drab but hugely popular, had sat for a decade. The birds ignored the psychedelic bath.

This went on for a couple of weeks. They would perch nearby, on one of the web chairs or up on the pumpkin wall, looking at their new bath, but they would not take the plunge.

But finally they came to their little birdy senses. However, it still isn’t as popular as the old, boring birdbath was. I haven’t seen any birds on its colorful rim save house sparrows, but that could be because it’s not springtime when the birdy array is wider.

Particularly noteworthy in their absence are the grackles, and I do not miss them. They stood in the middle of the old bath and splashed most of the water out with their big, fowl wings, like little, angry chickens.

May they never return.

I shot this photo with my new camera. Contrast it to the photo taken six weeks back with my far older camera. The new camera is clearly superior, but I’ve been thinking of selling it.

It does not fit in my pocket. It’s too big. I offered the camera on two Yahoo forums that focus on my area. No bites. No matter. The day after I offered it, I had already started to waffle on the issue.

It does take great photos.

Music and bread

torture

PACHELBEL’S CANON played as we ate bagels and Philly cheese lite this morning. The dining room window to the terraza was open to enjoy the 58-degree air in almost-August under blue skies at 8 a.m.

I took the photo with my new camera yesterday. It’s a 16th-century church on the outskirts of town, little visited and usually locked. I have read that Spaniards tortured an influential Indian chief in there. Racist Latinos!*

I’ve been inching through the manual of my new Canon SX520 and, as usual, sighing and rolling my eyeballs at how much technology can be crammed into a small space these days. Whereas I am in favor of high technology, my enthusiasm wanes when I have to deal with its innards personally.

The first day after the camera’s arrival discouraged me. I only wanted a far better zoom, and simpler cameras with great zooms are available. I began to wonder why I had not purchased one of those simpler options.

I woke up for a spell in the middle of Thursday night, thinking: I’m gonna sell that thing and buy something easier.  I have pulled similar stunts.

About three years ago, I bought a Samsung Smartphone. I sold it at a significant loss within the week. Didn’t care for it. My main objection was the ringtone, which was too pissant for my tastes. Didn’t ring long enough. Yeah, I know. You can add others. Learned that later.

I returned to my previous, ancient, Nokia phone. You would laugh at it. It does two things only. It makes calls. It sends messages. Period. It does have powerful ringtones that would startle the dead.

Back to the camera. So I woke up yesterday and continued reading the Canon manual (online) while fiddling with the camera. I began to like stuff more and more. It’s pretty incredible, things it does. I stood on the upstairs terraza and took a closeup of the chimney on a house down the street, crystal clear. No wobble at all. How’s that possible?

I also removed the neck strap, which was a colossal annoyance. I went back to Amazon, the U.S. version this time, and ordered a perfect wrist strap and a beefier memory card. They are en route, no import tax due, I’m told.

Looks like I’ll keep the camera. I took it downtown yesterday afternoon for my daily coffee siesta at a sidewalk table facing the beautiful plaza with towering trees. I snapped a few shots, but nothing notable. Then I got in the Honda and drove home, passing the small church above.

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We finished the bagels and Philly cheese lite. I watered the plants on the downstairs terraza. It’s a lovely day. I wonder what kind of day it was when the Spaniards tortured the Indian chief in the church.

Maybe there are still blood stains on the stone floor. Maybe that’s why the church is usually locked. Catholic shame.

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* Don’t they know that #indianlivesmatter?