Wednesday, September 25, 2013

drawing to that inside straight

When life gets around to shuffling and dealing the cards, we sometimes get a royal flush; sometimes a pair of deuces.

Tuesday was like that.  A winning hand.  And another hand -- well, not so winning.

You have already seen the royal flush.  At the top of this post.

In them thar hills, I told you about the wild flowers I encountered on my drive to Mineral de Pozos.  They tended to be scattered in small clumps along the road.  Looking a lot like Yasir Arafat's bread. 

And then, as if conjured up by a wizard, two fields of wild flowers appeared in clown pants colors.  Mind you, very tasteful colors.  As if designed by Christian Dior.

Small white flowers.  A few scattered blue and purple Morning Glories.  All supported by a canvas of yellow. Some small.  Some large.

And then a swath of pink Cosmos (the staple of P
átzcuaro's autumn fields) splashed through the center.

The light was  not with me on Monday, so, I returned on Tuesday.  And it was worth the drive.  Just to stand in those fields for an hour.  Enjoying and shooting the textures and colors.

There was still plenty of daylight for other shooting expeditions.  Instead, I decided to head south to Celaya to worship at the altar of consumerism.  Costco.

The landscape between San Miguel de Allende and Celaya would have made perfect shooting material.  The green hills are always attractive in September.  But yesterday's alternating clouds and clear patches of sky lit the hills dramatically enough to be a Pissarro landscape.

Costco could not rise to those heights.

In the five years I have lived in Mexico, I have not been able to break the belief that Costco is a food lifeline.  The equivalent of a US AID big box store.  I have been cured of that heresy.

I trolleyed up and down each aisle looking for the equivalent of Ponce de Leon's Fountain of Youth.  Some talisman to restore shopping honor to my life.

What I carted off was $95 (US) worth of stuff.  Just stuff.  Stuff I could have bought in Melaque or Manzanillo.  Mostly.

  •  Albacore.  Available in Melaque.  Same brand.
  • Deodorant.  Melaque.
  • TGIF snacks.  In Manzanillo at Walmart or Comercial Mexicana.
The Talking Rain water and the Parmesan are the only treats that could justify the return to urbantraffic.  And it was not a fair trade.

I am now down to less than a week in San Miguel de Allende.  On Monday, I will either be on my way to
Pátzcuaro for a few days or I will be Escaping to the Pacific coast.  The fact that I found temperatures of 72 to be hot here is a good sign that I may not yet be ready for re-entry into the atmosphere of Planet Melaque.

But that is days away.  There is still plenty to shoot here.  And winning hands to be dealt my way.

Dealer, I'll take three --

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