San Miguel de Allende, Writings

‘You have a soul that never ages and a heart that grows to fill every moment’

Rose Alcantara spending a Belizean birthday at Victoria House on Ambergris Caye.

As a writer, I don’t think I’ve grown less creative over the years. As the husband to Rose Alcantara, I don’t think I’ve grown less ardent in my love and appreciation.

Still, I wrote this declaration on her birthday (which is today) during our first year in San Miguel de Allende, and I don’t think I can improve upon it: 

“Feliz cumpleaños, Rose Alcantara, el amor de mi vida! Cada año creces más hermosa. Tienes un alma que nunca envejece y un corazón que crece para llenarse en cada momento. Estoy tan agradecido de que estés en mi vida. Te amaré por siempre.

Happy Birthday, Rose Alcantara, the love of my life! Each year you grow more beautiful. You have a soul that never ages and a heart that grows to fill every moment. I am so grateful that you are in my life. I shall love you forever.”

Nothing has changed.

 If anything, my sense of wonder grows as I see Rose through the eyes of others, as I see how passionately she prepares for her every Pilates class, as I see her smile lift a whole room of weighted souls, as I see her love for her children and mine played out daily, as I see her planning our next adventures, as I see her embracing life as something to live and not just abide, as I see her response to every act of kindness, as I see her own compassion, as I see her. 

Yes, simply, as I see Rose. 

Not just be with her, but, see her. See inside. See the love. See the pain. See the hurt. See the worry. See the desire. See the happiness. See the vision. See everything that she has overcome to be the dancer, be the teacher, be the mother, be the wife, be the friend.

Once again, the gift today is mine. Thank you for traveling this path with me. Thank you for teaching me how to really live, that just abiding is not enough.

While I can only give you words, you have given me life.

Happy birthday, Rose.

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Memoirs -- fact and fiction, San Miguel de Allende, Writings

A heartbreaking song on a permanent loop

The voice is young, sweet, innocent and yet, broken in a way only love’s betrayal can scar.

She accompanies herself on a guitar, languidly strumming. Not living, not dead. In the between. In the neverland of a broken heart. The vocalist drags out the last words of each line, as if groping toward a precipice. It may be in Spanish but it feels very French.

The singing is coming from an upper patio of the building next door.

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photography, San Miguel de Allende

Colorful cascade

This is the San Miguel de Allende version of “Surf’s Up!”

Bougainvillea soars skyward on spindly legs during the rainy season and bursts outward like technicolor mushroom clouds, surging over walls as their own weight and gravity pulls the blooms toward the ground.

This one is one of San Miguel’s best displays of a bougainvillea canopy.

As it is every year. (Mostly bougainvillea. The blue flowers are something else.)

Only this year, the bloom seems more vivacious than ever.

It is between the Villa Santa Monica property on Jose Guadalupe Mojica (Calle Baeza?) and Calle Santa Elena — right across from Parque Juarez and close to the Lavaderos del Chorro.

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Colonia San Antonio, San Miguel de Allende, Writings

Biblical downpour, biblical outpouring

Matthew 25:40: “Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me. “

And the rain pours down

Like on no day before.

My Rose takes our red umbrella

And hangs it over the hummingbird’s nest.

.

And the rain pours down

Like on no day before

But the three tiny eggs

And their mother stay dry.

.

And the rain pours down

Like on no day before

But my Rose thinks only

Of the frailest among us.

.

My heart fills with love

For a woman who thinks like that.

Let the rain pour down

Like on no day before.

Postscript: There are now babies in the nest and Rose lets me place the umbrella up when it starts to rain. Sometimes.

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photography, San Miguel de Allende, Writings

The evolving physics of the Parroquia

Every time I think that I’ve photographed the Parroquia San Miguel de Arcangel from every conceivable angle during the past five years, something new comes along.

It’s like in physics. Scientists were pretty sure that the Standard Model that addresses all “of nature’s known particles and forces” was The Overall Encompassing Answer to Everything.

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Colonia San Antonio, San Miguel de Allende

Early morning Samaritans

She was standing in the middle of Callejon San Antonio around 6:30 this morning as I left the house, a dazed look on her face. And tears. On a closer look, she was crying.

“Are you all right?” I asked. A dumb thing to ask, I know. “Can I help you?”

“No, I’m not. I don’t know.”

She removed her hand from the top of her baseball cap. A large dark smear of blood was seeping through the hat and dripping down the side of her face. In her other hand, she held the leash to the dog she had been walking.

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San Miguel de Allende, Writings

Imagine that

(The author begs your indulgence if you already read this on Facebook. The blog seems a better home for it. Thank you for reading and commenting. — The editor)

A whole ocean spreads out before them

But for two little boys

A string of shallow pools

And some rocks

Are quite enough.

They hop from pool to pool

Splashing water with foot-stomping fierceness

They move rocks from pool to pool.

They wallow in the deepest one

Like beached sea lions.

All the while, the ocean calls

In vain.

It sends dolphins to entice them

But the boys will have none of that.

Yesterday, at a children’s park,

It was the rolling green lawn, the wind twisted climbing trees, and the incurious squirrels

That captivated their imaginations.

Not the swings, not the slides, not the plastic and rope confections of an adult’s imagination.

They are like cats with boxes and Christmas wrapping.

Give us nature’s raw materials,

they seem to say,

And we will build sailing ships and castles

And fantastic flying machines

In our fertile minds.

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photography, San Miguel de Allende

Bonus: Closing night fireworks (now, with stunning video!)

After two weeks of festivities ramping up to the Feast of Saint Anthony and the Convite de Locos on Sunday, the closing night fireworks were spectacular. Flashes, flames, arcs of brilliant light, cascades of incandescence, strobes of white heat, yellow flamethrowers, whistles, and booms all danced around the Parroquia San Antonio de Padua in Colonia San Antonio.

A stunning display of pyrotechnics set to beguiling classical music.

Crank up the volume!

Click on any image to enlarge:

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photography, Reviews, San Miguel de Allende, Writings

Maybe they’re not so loco after all … what a parade!

They did it. The Loco marched, danced, walked, twirled, teased, sweated, tossed candy and rubber balls, waved, smiled, and consumed copious amounts of water and electrolyte drinks on Sunday morning.

And the thousands lining both sides of many downtown San Miguel de Allende streets loved every hot and sticky, broiling, joyous moment of the Contvite de Locos.

What an incredible day.

The city estimates that 130,000 people were in San Miguel for the parade, of whom 5,300 were Locos marching in the parade. Only 43 people required medical attention for heat, falling, tripping, or other maladies. Four individuals were arrested during this very family-oriented festivity.

It is worth noting that the city staffed a number of “hydration stations” along the parade route for marchers and watchers.

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