moonbeams in my hand

It looked like the goal of an unsought quest.

Huge.  White as a wizard's tower.  Looming in the distance.

I was up on the mirador above Melaque indulging in one of my favorite sights.  The crescent bay hugging its Gemini children -- Melaque and Barra de Navidad.  And the ocean stretching all the way to the shores of China.

The day was Barbra Streisand clear.  You could almost believe seeing forever was possible.

Off to the east was a new sight.  That white talisman in the distance.  Because the air was so clear, it was hard to judge the distance.  At the maximum ability of my zoom lens -- as you can see by the pixelization.

When I lived in Greece, I played a little adventure game.  Greece is very similar to coastal Mexico.  The mountains range off into the sea leaving isolated stretches of narrow coastal plains.

From our Greek air base, I could see a single bare peak in the mountain range.  Every weekend I would strap myself into my 240Z and sally forth to find that mountain.  To set the mood, I named it Dulcinea.

Just as in all good quests, the closer I would come to it, the further it would recede from view.  Grasping moonbeams.  I never did find it.

So, off I drove yesterday to find my new stone monument.  But this was the only stone hill I could find.  Not quite the same.

Back to the mirador I went to get my bearings.  And right next to the white hill was the clue I needed.

See the water vapor plume to the left of the rock?  It comes from the power plant to the southeast of Manzanillo.  The only hill of that size is a huge stone rock in the ocean just off of Playa de Oro -- the Gold Coast.

We have gone there together before.  (gold on the beach; stairway to change)  The beach is the site of a famous 1862 wreck of a gold ship.  It was on that rock -- pena blanca -- that many of the survivors of the sinking sought refuge.

Yesterday I thought I had found a new quest.  But that rock has earned a history of its own.