Mexican Culture: Xochicalco's Engineers and Scientists

Our friend from Cuernavaca took us to visit the archaeological site of Xochicalco—“In the place of the house of the flowers”—located about 38 kilometers from Cuernavaca on the Cuernavaca-Acapulco Highway, which runs straight across a broad flat plain rimmed by cerros (hills).

Coincidentally or not, as we approached the exit, my friend pointed out numerous puestos (farm stands) selling…roses! Generous bunches of roses (perhaps two dozen per bunch) were neatly stacked almost a meter high on counters. Each grower had a basic color—red or orange—with subtle variations on that color. The stacks of these subtly different shades of roses made a dramatic and beautiful display.

Xochicalco

Declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1999, Xochicalco gained dominance as a Mesoamerican city-state in the political and economic power vacuum created by the fall of Teotihuacan, the dominant city-state in what is now central Mexico during the Classical Period (150-650 CE).

The fall of Teotihuacan created such political, economic and social instability that Mesoamerican city-states, including the Xochicalca people, were forced to develop their own defenses. The height of Xochicalco’s power and influence was achieved during the Epiclassical or Late Classic period from 650 to 900 CE. Its reign was followed by that of  Tula, which is north of present-day Mexico City.

GoogleMap of Xochicalco, Archaeological Site near Cuernavaca, Morelos,
which flourished from 650-900 CE 

As we arrive at the site, we enlist the forces of a local guide, Javier, who has been guiding tours at this site for twenty years and has studied at the University of San Diego. The description that follows makes use of what Javier told us and what I came upon by researching Xochicalco on the Internet—especially information provided by INAH (Instituto Nacional de Antropología e Historia). 

Although the ethnic origin of Xochicalco’s inhabitants is unknown, their knowledge and experience was highly advanced and has achieved world-wide recognition. As the daughter of a civil engineer, the engineering and scientific achievements of the Mesoamericans intrigue me. This first Xochicalco post focuses on those feats. 

Strategic Site Construction

Not only did the Xochicalca rulers site their city strategically on top of a mountain—more accurately, atop a series of hilltops—they also developed a complete urban plan to achieve their strategic vision. The plan called for modifications to join together these hilltops in order to create the fortress-city of Xochicalco in a way that also realized their military and commercial strategy.

Over two centuries (700-900 CE), Xochicalco’s ruler-engineers designed and constructed an easy-to-defend urban site that at the same time assured strategic control over a broad territory of critical trade routes that ran across the plain—just as the modern highway does today.

Our young friend—Master of the Universe—standing at one corner 

of the Grand Plaza overlooking the plain controlled by Xochicalco over a thousand years ago. 

Note one of the lower plazas below

The similarity of this strategy to the one employed at Monte Albán in Oaxaca is noteworthy. Monte Albán’s rulers leveled a hilltop at the junction of two important valleys to create an urban religious and military center that also controlled critical trade routes in those valleys.

Looking out over the valleys from Xochicalco. 

Notice the terraces in the left foreground.

Back-filled Retaining Walls

At Xochicalco, the urban center was constructed atop a series of hills rising 130-meters (426.6 feet) above the surrounding plain (Elevation: 1548 meters, 4856 feet). The hills were joined together by the construction of retaining walls back-filled in a way that formed immense terraces that give the site the appearance of the base of a pyramid of geological dimensions. Joined to these terraces was a system of moats or pits, walls and other defensive elements that permitted the Xochicalcas to prevail over possible attackers. 

Terraced Retaining Walls

At the highest level was a large, level space on which were constructed the grand plaza with public and religious buildings. Adjoining these buildings were luxurious residences for members of the governing, religious and military classes. Lower terraces provided houses and workplaces for the common people. 

Engineering Feat: Water System

An important feature of Xochicalco is the water system for capturing and storing rainwater in large, covered cisterns. Our guide, Javier, explained that water flowing off roofs of the large buildings on the highest level was captured and stored in cisterns for use during the seven dry months each year.

During the dry season, water from these cisterns was piped down to people living on the lower terraces. The water delivery system hence used gravitational pull to deliver the water. The system itself was built using ‘pre-constructed’ tubes that workers assembled in a way similar to techniques used today.

By way of contrast, the years 700 to 900 CE are known today as the Middle Ages—part of the so-called 'Dark Ages'—in Europe that followed the fall of the Roman Empire. During this period European urban residents got water from wells or directly from rivers and lakes. This water was often contaminated due to the close proximity of work and living spaces.

Observatory for Studying the Sun

The numerous caves found on the sides of the hill are not natural. They were excavated by the Xochicalcas in order to obtain construction materials. But many caves served several purposes. This is true, for example, of the cave used as an Observatory for studying and tracking the movement of the sun.

An underground passageway leads to a large chamber fitted with a ‘chimney’. From the base to the surface of the ‘chimney’ measures 8.7 meters (28.5 feet). The mouth of the flue is hexagonal.

Hexagonal Mouth of the Chimney Shaft

The flue is slightly inclined so the sun’s rays can penetrate. The cave is stuccoed and painted black (signifying west), yellow (signifying south) and red (signifying east).  FYI - White signifies north, and green signifies center. 

Sun's rays falling on the floor of the Observatory

The floor was decorated ceremonially and religiously to receive the sun's ray. For a period of 105 days—that is, from April 30 to August 15—as the sun travels northward toward the Tropic of Cancer and then returns, its rays penetrate down the chimney shaft and onto the cave's floor.

Twice each year the sun reaches its zenith, directly overhead. These zeniths occur, respectively, on May 14/15 and July 28/29. At these astronomical mid-days, a very strong ray of sunlight passes through the narrow chimney shaft in the ceiling of the observatory to the cave's floor. Religious ceremonies were held in the cave to mark this solar event. 

At the Zenith, the Sun's rays are vertical

It is said that when you place your arm through this ray of light, you can see your skeleton like an X-ray on the floor of the cave, but actually what you see is an optical illusion created by the umbra and pre-umbra of your own shadow.

We weren't able to visit the Observatory, which is currently closed to the public while conservation work is completed. Certainly, the solar eclipse that occurred in 743 C.E. was visible from Xochicalco.

Catching my Breath

Believe it or not, we learned all of the above information in about the first 30-45 minutes of our two-hour tour!  The engineering feats are impressive, but so is the ability of Xochicalco's ruling elite to organize and administer a city-state of this size.

The next post will discuss the myths and symbols of Xochicalco, which is dedicated to Quetzalcóatl (Plumed Serpent). Stay tuned!     

Travel Journal: Mexico from a Bus Window - Time

On the highway to Mexico City, our bus takes us alongside great agricultural fields: agribusiness. Smaller, family-worked fields are also visible. Farm 'technology'—I can't think of a better word—spans two centuries.

Time itself seems altered as we take in the sight of plows pulled by ox teams or horse teams. Modern tractors pull plows in other fields. In Mexico the ancient and the modern live—they co-exist—side by side.

The bus speeds past fields where laborers are picking product—radishes, maybe?—from plants with deep green leaves close to the ground. In many fields, a man or two works with a manual farm tool—hoe or machete. The poignancy of this faithful trabajo (work) tugs at me. Setting aside the timeless quality of the men’s labor, I can’t help wondering about the efficiency of their traditional methods.

We see a variety of farm conveyances. It seems we’re watching a split screen showing two centuries. Horse-drawn farm carts loaded with harvest plod steadily down a nearly empty road running parallel to the highway. A few miles later, modern pick-up trucks outfitted to carry farm products to market pass our bus on the highway.

We pass both irrigated fields and fields lacking irrigation. We pass an area where pueblos creep up the sides of cerros (hills), undoubtedly to preserve productive farm land. We pass immense white-roofed greenhouses where fruits and vegetables are grown both for domestic consumption and for export: hydroponic lettuce, berries of all kinds, and much more.

Then we observe a curious phenomenon. With unsettling regularity and set right smack in the middle of large, fallow, open fields stand modern, multi-storied buildings. Their size and style shout ‘Multinational Corporation’. Few, if any, cars are in the parking lots. It’s difficult to know what purpose these buildings serve. Signage is minimal. Warehouses? Could be. It remains a mystery.

Changing buses in Mexico City, we head for Cuernavaca, which has been a weekend and vacation destination for Mexico City’s wealthy and landed classes since Colonial times. On the road to Cuernavaca, we observe a transition.

The modest pueblos we passed entering Mexico City slowly yield to increasingly visible wealth. Upscale fraccionamientos (large subdivisions) hint at the luxury of homes nestled safely inside secure walls.

Arriving in Cuernavaca, I feel like a country mouse in the Big City. Capital of the State of Morelos, Cuernavaca is another world—another tile in the cultural mosaic that is today’s Republic of Mexico.

When we were new arrivals in Pátzcuaro, our Mexican friend Norma observed that “Mexican culture has many levels, and each level is rich.” Each time I encounter yet another facet of Mexican culture, my appreciation for the wisdom of her observation grows.

A Connecticut friend wrote that he’s eager to read my description of Cuernavaca. His mother is Mexican-American, and he recalls spending summers on his uncle’s ranch just outside Cuernavaca: “We rode horses to the mercado (market) in Cuernavaca for comida (mid-day main meal).”

I’ve heard similar comments from Patzcuarenses (Pátzcuaro born). In both pueblo and state capital, it is safe to say that the days of tying horses to hitching posts are gone forever—although I hasten to add that horses are still used regularly to deliver firewood to houses in Pátzcuaro.

The truth is, I can’t write about Cuernavaca right now. Our time there was a private visit to renew—and extend to new family members—a cross-cultural and cross-language friendship that goes back almost twenty years. A valued friendship was warmly, joyously, inclusively renewed. In today’s world, it doesn’t get much better than that.

But it doesn’t leave me with a lot to write about Cuernavaca either. Instead, I find myself feeling the profound difference between a modern Mexican city—perhaps especially one as cultured and beautiful as Cuernavaca—and Pátzcuaro, where we live. It has taken days for me to be able to articulate the feeling, but it has to do with how residents in the two locales regard time and space.

Reed has written about how in the global world the Internet and social networking tools erase ‘time’ and ‘space’. As a corporate consultant, I participated in real-time video conferences attended by people located around the globe. ‘Time’ was ‘now’ regardless of what ‘time zone’ local clocks showed. 'Space’ was defined by the computer ‘screen’ we all watched, regardless of where we were physically located.

Cuernavaca strikes me as a modern, possibly even global city more or less decoupled from the land in a way that ‘frees’ the notion of time from the seasonally-based agricultural cycle. Once ‘liberated’ from the land, time becomes more ‘progressive’. People are more inclined to schedule X-event to occur on Y-date at Z-hour.

In contrast, life in Pátzcuaro is still inextricably linked to the land (‘la tierra’). Now we await the arrival of the spring rains, expected any day. Campesinos wait for the rains to arrive so they can begin planting maíz (corn).

Yesterday morning I heard cohetes (rockets) going off at 5:00 AM, calling the faithful to mañanitas (morning prayers). Today I found out the cohetes were for the Fiesta of San Isidro Labrador, patron saint of farmworkers (Labradores).

But there’s more. Several people described San Isidro to me not only as the patron saint of farmworkers, but as patron also of the rains and of the earth. I take notice whenever reference is made to natural elements. I’ve come to expect a connection to Mesoamerican culture.

My vigilance is rewarded. Tlaloc is the Aztec god of rain. Coatlicue is the Aztec goddess of the earth and of fertility. One might be forgiven for imagining that the Catholic Saint Isidro of Farmworkers rests atop this ancient Mesoamerican belief. It's one more dramatic example of syncretism—the intermingling of two or more belief systems.

It was all beginning to make sense. Last Friday I had passed by Plaza Chica (Little Plaza, or commercial square) on my way to run an errand at the Post Office. Streets on two sides of the Plaza were closed to traffic, and the large area in front of the Teatro Emperador (Emperor Theater) was filled with young Purhépecha women wearing traditional dress for fiestas.

A banda was playing traditional Mexican music. Dancers were performing the Torito (Little Bull), beloved balet folclórico (traditional folk dance). Men and women on horseback watched the proceedings. Men dressed as women (as for Carnival) clowned around while passing around a box and asking spectators for donations.

It was the first day of the Fiesta of San Isidro. The sights and sounds of fiesta—the vibrant colors, traditional banda music, dancers and dances—are a vivid reminder of the sensual connection between Pátzcuaro’s daily, cultural rhythm and this pueblo’s ancient relationship to the land.

The Mexican writer Maria Luisa Puga observes that Patzcuarenses live as if time and space were ‘naturally’ one. In this place called Pátzcuaro, it is time for the rains to arrive.

It is time to plant seeds in Fertile Mother Earth where they can receive Tlaloc's life-giving rain. So it is that in this time and place, the cycle of life continues…as it was millennia ago in Mesoamerican culture, as it is today, and as it shall forever be....

Travel Journal: Mexico from a Bus Window - Place (Space)

Most Mexicans travel by bus. So when Reed and I decided to visit old friends in Cuernavaca, we chose bus travel. Bus windows give us a special view of Mexico's land and its people. For me bus rides are 'time out of mind' experiences. Unburdened by daily tasks, my mind interacts freely with passing views and associates easily to related experiences, people and places.

Leaving the colonial city of Morelia, we head east toward Mexico City. The landscape first captures my attention. The sheer scale of Mexico's landscapes is awe-some—Big Sky, Big Hills, Big Valleys that twist and bend around the 'hills'. I remind myself that at 6,000 feet above sea level, these 'hills' are little mountaintops.

No photo truly captures the 'bigness' of the Mexican countryside in all its 360-degree grandeur. It reminds me of the geography of the Far Western United States—Utah, Texas, Arizona, New Mexico, Montana—where the Rocky Mountains rise up to meet the sky to the West and the Great Plains unfold to the East as far as the eye can see.

Walkers catch my eye. Mexicans are inveterate, seemingly tireless walkers. Well-worn footpaths wind across the land. I watch a mother holding the hand of a child about four years old. Walking steadily on a road across open land, it's my guess they are headed toward their pueblo and home. But I also see schoolchildren in school uniforms walking home from school on well-paved roads with little or no vehicular traffic.

My mind jumps to the teenager I saw from the bus two years ago on our way to Oaxaca across vast, open desert-like spaces. His clothes were international 'teen—baggy shorts, T-shirt, tennis shoes, hatless at midday in the scorching sun—casually striding along. What struck me at the time was that we were in the middle of what seemed to me to be absolutely nowhere—cactus of every kind, but not a tree in sight, endless hills rolling one after another.

But clearly this joven (teenager) was 'somewhere'—most likely, his pueblo was reasonably close by. On the flight from Oaxaca back to Mexico City, I was fascinated to see dirt roads crisscrossing these desolate ridges, connecting isolated pueblos. Many of these footpaths are remnants of Mesoamerican paths that predate the arrival of the Spanish by thousands of years.

Meanwhile, today I see numerous folks of all ages on bicycles riding in pueblos and fields perhaps an hour outside Mexico City. I don't mean fancy sports bikes. I'm talking about well-used bikes with balloon tires and baskets mounted front and back. I'm describing a basic mode of transportation commonly used on well-paved roads with minimal vehicular traffic. It reminds me yet again: Mexico is a different world.

I become aware of the variety of houses that we pass along the way—houses in all stages of completion. These uncompleted houses baffled me until I learned that mortgages are not available to most Mexicans, which makes house construction a pay-as-you-go affair.

Families save money. When they have saved enough, they buy land. Then they save again until funds are available to begin construction. They build what they can pay cash for. Construction stops while the family accumulates funds to begin again. It takes years to build a house.

But here’s the good news: Once built, the house belongs to the family, not to the bank. When hard times hit, families focus on essentials like food, gas and electricity without having to worry about mortgage payments.

Many families provide much of the labor as well. It seems every Mexican we know is remarkably multi-skilled. The range of skills, certainly those needed to build a house, is even broader when the skill set of the entire extended family is drawn upon, as it usually is. It's today's version of the 'barn-raisings' that helped farm families settle the Western United States.

At a certain point in the ongoing construction process, families move in. A Pátzcuaro friend told us how her family moved into their home when it was only partially completed. It took her father several years to complete the house, which he did himself. Today the house is a comfortable middle class home to the entire family of eight children.

My mind keeps returning to the importance of the Mexican 'family home'. It is changing somewhat now, but traditionally Mexicans are very attached to the place (pueblo) of their birth and tend to stay put. The Mexican-Spanish word order ir y venir—go and come—likely reflects this attachment.  We are intrigued by the word order because in English, of course, it is reversed; we say, come and go, rather than go and come.

Reed's 'take' seems just right:  For Mexicans, the center of reference is here—home or pueblo. So Mexicans van y vienen—they go and come, returning always to their center of reference. In contrast, the English form 'come and go' seems to imply that as a people our 'center of reference' is somewhere else.

The importance of 'place' is also reflected in the Spanish language. English has the single verb form to be.  But Spanish has two verb forms:  ser ('to be' as essential condition; for example, Soy una mujer - I am a woman); and estar ('to be' in the sense of place; for example, Estoy aquí en Pátzcuaro - I am here in Pátzcuaro).

Reed has traced the etymology of the Spanish verb estar (to be) back to the Indo-European word "sta," which means to stand. Some derivatives mean "place or thing standing"; for example, state, stage, stay, statue, station. As we move around Pátzcuaro, Reed and I sense a profound linkage between this sense of 'place' and, despite the severe poverty, a serene self confidence among indigenous Purhépecha people.

Our young American friend tells of buying a breakfast gordita (tortilla sandwich) from an indigenous woman in Oaxaca. The woman asked our friend where she is from. Upon hearing the reply, the woman drew herself up and proudly responded, "Ya estás en mi tierra" (Now you are in my land).

An illuminating question to ask a new Mexican acquaintance is, "Were you born here?"  Many people straighten with pride before confirming, yes, or having to say no, they quickly and proudly volunteer where they were born—obviously providing a key component of their personal identity.

We are extranjeros (strangers) in this Mexican land that—viewed through the windows of a long-distance bus—passes by so quickly. But as we go from Pátzcuaro to travel through the Mexican countryside, we carry with us a sense of our increasing rootedness in the pueblo where we will, indeed, come once again when our travels are done.

Mexico Fiesta: Cruz Verde in Pátzcuaro

We wakened at 6:30 AM to the now-familiar sound of cohetes (rockets, large firecrackers) announcing 7:00 AM Mass.

Today, May 3, is celebration of the Fiesta de la Cruz Verde (Green Cross)—patron saint of Cruz Verde Church located just a couple of blocks from the central plazas in Pátzcuaro, Michoacán. In the Catholic Liturgical Calendar, May 3 is the Feast Day of the Holy Cross (Santa Cruz), of which Cruz Verde is a variant.

Watching today's parade to the Plaza Grande, it became clear that whatever its meaning within Catholic tradition, Cruz Verde is, in fact, a May Day festival of renewal celebrating the mid-point of spring—falling, as it does, midway between the Spring Equinox and Summer Solstice.


Green, of course, symbolizes resurrection and regeneration, thus strengthening the link to the season of planting, which begins when the rains arrive sometime after Cruz Verde. In Mesoamerican culture, green represented Life as symbolized by quetzal feathers (which are green) and jade.

The origin of the Feast of Santa Cruz—Cruz Verde—is shrouded in legend.  Polydoro Virgilio, a sixteenth century Italian writer, relates the Fiesta of the Holy Cross to Roman fiestas honoring Flora, the goddess who represents the eternal rebirth of vegetation in the spring.

Today's parade was led by señoras carrying arcs of paper flowers, which symbolize Life

In Greek mythology, Cibeles (goddess of the Earth and Fertility) selected Attis, a beautiful youth, to guard her temple, on the condition that he remain virgin. Attis succumbed to the charms of a nymph. Enraged by Attis' betrayal, Cibeles struck down the Tree on which Attis' eternal life depended. Repentant, Attis castrated himself.

Upon learning of Attis' action, Cibeles admitted him once again to her temple. The ancient Greeks celebrated this myth of death and resurrection involving the Tree of Life at the time of the Spring Equinox.

Another legend involves the Roman Emperor Constantine. Vastly outnumbered by an enemy army, Constantine had a dream in which he was told to construct and place the Holy Cross at the head of his army in order to assure victory. He did so and, as foretold, easily routed the enemy in the ensuing battle.

With this victory, Constantine sent his mother, Elena, to the Holy Land to find the Cross on which Jesus had been crucified. Under torture, three priests showed Elena where the three crosses lay hidden. A young man, recently dead, was laid in turn on the three crosses. When he was laid on top of the Third Cross, he regained his life—clearly, indicating that this was the Santa Cruz de Jesús.

Faithful señora carrying the Cruz Verde decorated with 

flowers fashioned from  pink and white crepe paper. 

As part of the Holy Roman Empire, Spain was heir to these Greco-Roman traditions and legends, which are relevant here because clearly the Santa Cruz celebration was brought to Nueva España (México) from Spain by Catholic missionaries charged with evangelizing the indigenous peoples.

Intent on eliminating ancient practices and superstitions, the missionaries sought to transform ancient practices into Christian symbols. In this case, the ancient May Pole (Tree of Life, or Ceiba Tree, which is also a symbol in Mesoamerican culture) was transformed into the Santa Cruz, while conserving nearly intact the cultural elements of the ancient celebration.

 Señora celebrating Cruz Verde by decorating her sombrero with paper flowers. Her silver earrings are traditional Purhépecha design.

 Handsome jovén (young man) wearing traditional sombrero and 

 a black and gray sarape folded over his right shoulder.

The Fiesta of Cruz Verde is all about color and life, animals that support the agrarian lifestyle and a fair amount of mescal, which—to my surprise!—is shared with all who watch the parade.

Teams of oxen (bueys) are still seen in the fields around Pátzcuaro.  This pair look askance at Reed pointing his camera at them. Notice the crepe paper festoons.

Burros are not an uncommon sight on Pátzcuaro's streets carrying loads of leña (firewood) for the pueblo's many fireplaces.

I love this burro. He was groomed to beat the band...and his dramatic coloring caught my eye. Check the eye shadow around his eyes!

Speaking of bands!  Every Mexican fiesta has to have a band, and the Fiesta of Cruz Verde is no exception!

The towel around the head of the tuba player is to protect against the sun, which on May 3 is very high in the sky.  But nothing can filter out the twinkle in the player's eye as he realizes that Reed is taking his picture!

This joven (young man) is wearing the traditional Purhépecha sombrero and carrying the distinctive 'Butterfly'  fish nets used by Lake Pátzcuaro's fishermen.

Dancer holding aloft the Pescado (Fish)

The parade ends in front of the Ayuntamiento (City Hall), where the Dance of the Pescadores (fishermen) is performed. Even thirty years ago, fishing in Lake Pátzcuaro was not only an important source of food, but an integral and important part of the culture as well.  As the water level in Lake Pátzcuaro has dropped, this aspect of the culture has perhaps diminished, but by no means has it disappeared. 

Next came the Dance of the Torito (Little Bull), which celebrates Fertility, Life, and the omnipresent possibility of Death. Bulls were brought to Nueva España by the Spaniards. Today bulls, bull-fighting (in the larger cities) and bull-riding (jaripéos in the countryside) remain important parts of Mexican culture.

The Torito Dance is a standard feature of many Mexican Fiestas. The head of the Torito is constructed from hand-woven natural fiber mats (petates).

When painted and with bulls' horns attached,
they become the Torito in this traditional dance.  

We were enchanted by this muchacho performing the Torito with a small bulls' head. It's never too early to begin learning the traditional dances!











For the past ten days, we've had a team of albañiles (construction workers specializing in bricks and tiles)—a family team of father and two sons—cleaning and resetting Casa Mariposa's red tiles (tejas) so rainwater will flow easily when the rains arrive. Cruz Verde is the patron saint of albañiles. Cruz Verdes festooned with crepe paper flowers and streamers are erected to protect albañiles working on often-dangerous construction sites across México.

The Fiesta de Cruz Verde, coming just after Easter Sunday, celebrates the Natural Cycle by saluting the arrival of Spring, the beginning of a new agricultural cycle and concludes with thanksgiving to nature for the harvest to come.

In line with this general celebration of fertility, the Fiesta de Cruz Verde exalts human love and all its spontaneous expressions—hence the mescal, which harks back to ancient traditions.  In this way, the Fiesta de Santa Cruz is a joyous, colorful example of syncretism—Catholic symbols superimposed on ancient beliefs.

Postscript:  I had just finished writing this blog and was ready to post it when I heard the first raindrops of the season.  I didn't quite believe my ears or my eyes because the sun had shone brightly all day long with no indication of impending rain. I kind of held my breath because we've had ever-so-light suggestions of a rain shower with the drops not really hitting the ground, just the leaves of the trees.

But this time, I heard the distinct patter of raindrops falling on our newly cleaned and arranged roof tiles. Then it started to rain even harder.  It can't really be, I thought, but it really was!  I glanced at the clock—6:00 PM. Then I heard the season's first roll of thunder (trueno).  It is now 6:58 PM and the rain god Tlaloc has not yet finished announcing his seasonal arrival!

Earlier today when I wrote, the Fiesta de Cruz Verde announces "...the season of planting that begins when the rains arrive sometime after Cruz Verde." Well, today they arrived right smack on schedule!

The thunder is growing fainter...moving up toward the Meseta (highlands).  Murmuro yo, ¡Bienvenido a las primeras lluvias de la primavera!  [I whisper, Welcome to the first Spring Rains!]


Oh...and did I remind you of the sweet, sweet smell of wet earth, trees and leaves....  Hmm, it's starting to rain even harder now.  Happy Spring!