SITTING FRIDAY at a sidewalk table downtown, nursing a nice café Americano negro* and reading Ernie Pyle’s excellent Brave Men, I heard a racket coming down the street.
It was a small parade. I have no idea what the occasion was, but I did whip out my new Fujifilm Finepix 850exr, a sweetheart of a camera, and snapped a few shots.
Living here is great because you never know what you’ll see next. A companion shot can be found here.
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* I love typing this accurate Spanish phrase. Were I to do so while a student at an American university, I would handcuffed, tried by a kangaroo court and expelled.
JUST MINUTES after posting yesterday’s praise of oxygen and stars, roundabouts 7 a.m., I looked out the window behind the computer screen and saw this, so I snapped a photo.
I think it’s the first sunrise (or sunset) shot to appear here in years. Normally, I leave such fluff to other folks who live in Mexico — sunrises and beaches and margaritas and parades and crocodiles and “such nice people.”
What’s notable about this photo — to me at least, not you — is that the sun is clearly moving into the Southern Hemisphere, setting us up for winter. That is not the mountain the sun prefers for rising in June.
The best month of the year, November, is winding down, and December lurks around the corner. December is unpredictable. It can be like lovely November, but it can also be early winter. You never know.
A visitor to the mountaintop from South Dakota asked me recently if it freezes here in winter. The answer is yes, but not every year. Most years it does, but only overnight. By afternoon, it’s in the 70s.
Generally, it’s a real swell place to live.
So you get your Moon money’s worth, here’s the last sunrise photo from years ago.
And to illustrate Hacienda life on winter mornings, here I am in the kitchen in some far January or February, trying to defrost myself with a hot cafecito while facing a sun-lit window. My wife knitted that wool scarf.