My secret

lakeWHEN FOLKS think about living in Mexico, they commonly imagine beaches and constant sunshine. They rarely think about where I live here high in the mountains in the nation’s middle.

There is plenty of sunshine, but there are lots of clouds and rain too, especially during June through October. And there is the huge lake which defines our part of the world. Alas, the lake is shrinking. People my age and even younger remember when it was significantly larger.

After we voted Sunday morning, we headed to a nearby village for lunch, and then we decided to take a drive, just for the sake of it. There is a two-laner that circles the lake, but at one point there’s an offshoot road that runs three or four winding miles, closer to the water — and high.

I had lived here for years before discovering this offshoot, and it was a bear to drive because it was dirt and potholes in the dry season and mud and puddles during the rainy months. But, Lordy, what a view! Not precisely the Big Sur Highway in California, but you get my drift.

And then it got paved. Even though it’s smooth now and offers stunning vistas, it is rarely traveled, another plus.

What a lovely place to live.

I stopped the Honda and snapped this photo. What you see down there is a community of the indigenous people of our part of Mexico. The women are notable for ankle-length, pleated skirts and very long, plaited pigtails.

The guys just look like guys.

We don’t live that far away. And I can travel this twisty stretch of mountain-hugging highway whenever I wish, and I’ll find almost nobody impeding me ahead or tailing behind. It’s my secret, this place.