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The past few days have been interesting. The word "interesting" is used, as many know, to avoid saying something that might be offensive to the more delicate. To boil the tail of scorpion and tongue of toad down to a good concentrate, let us simply state it was miserably cold at our little hideaway in NoWhere, Mexico. BUT...our electricity never failed, our propane system (quite old...but not quite antique) worked, and the adobe construction served us well in terms of staying as warm inside as possible, and our fireplace never gave into the strong winds, in terms of backing-up the chimney's function to vent smoke.
But, it was not a lot of fun to babysit three big dogs and three old cats who had...how did Professor Higgins say it?...grown accustomed to my "smile". Smile in this case is another word for feeling compelled to wait on six very spoiled beasts.
But, it was not a lot of fun to babysit three big dogs and three old cats who had...how did Professor Higgins say it?...grown accustomed to my "smile". Smile in this case is another word for feeling compelled to wait on six very spoiled beasts.
We had a good couple of days upon arrival. The nights were oddly bracingly cold...not cool, but cold. Bitterly frigid with temperatures in the lower 30s between midnight and dawn ruled the darker hours of obscurity.
The reward for that phenomena was one of the prides of Mexico... a Cecil B. DeMille-level star display that simply required a heavy sweater and a greatcoat, two pairs of socks, a pull-over wooly for the head, topped with an ancient goat-hair serape (actually quite valuable) which covered one strange, but still slightly sane, gringo.
The reward for this was the certain knowledge that there was triple-concentrated, whole-milk, rough chocolate slow-heating on our little, dependable gas stove coupled with the marvelous display of stars, the Milky Way, the satellites, the various jet-plane, red-eyes lumbering Mexico City and reality, along with other celestial attractions.
Darting back inside for a recharge of real chocolate, mixed with strong coffee and brown sugar, one can spend another 15 or 20 minutes in the cold, clear air and peer all the way into the innards of the Milky Way.
Darting back inside for a recharge of real chocolate, mixed with strong coffee and brown sugar, one can spend another 15 or 20 minutes in the cold, clear air and peer all the way into the innards of the Milky Way.
But as we have shared with a selected few, there is a phenomena, at our geographic position apparently, where an observer can see irregularly-placed, and irregularly-timed flashes occur well within the stellar theatre. These are not "flashes" of meteors, but sudden and very brief and stationary blasts of light that illuminate very little but which are certainly seen.
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| Painted Bunting |
We move on, posting about our feathered friends, such as the one on the reader's immediate left. There were two distinct cold-snaps during our last stay. Both were bitterly cold. They followed an event from about a month back when there was massive cold wave that dumped from five to thirty-five inches of snow in a couple of days.
The bird pictured to the left, a male Painted Bunting, is not the one who came to your little adobe hideaway. Lamentably, this is a professionally done photo. These birds are neither rare nor common, because in some places, especially in temperate climates, they are sighted by bird watching aficionados, and in other places the buntings' flyways are predictable and heavily travelled.
There were many, many other tiny birds, less than 3 inches in overall length, of various descriptions and colours and personality that we have not ever seen during our occupation of our little place. It was truly amazing to see them hopping about with small snowflakes and chips of freezing rain bouncing off their back, while they picked up seeds and snapped up insects.
Another oddity was the presentation of an entire stampede of about 50 or 60 Inca Doves, all afoot, poking the gravel and hard dirt "street" in front of our place. They were moving as a group, but appeared to be doves having a bout of schizophrenia, or at least personality or cultural disaffection syndrome.
We shall have more to report to-morrow, and in the coming days. For the moment, I am still counting noses, toes, and fingers to make sure that they are all still present and / or accounted for. We thank each and all for the time invested with us on this day.
El Gringo Viejo
The bird pictured to the left, a male Painted Bunting, is not the one who came to your little adobe hideaway. Lamentably, this is a professionally done photo. These birds are neither rare nor common, because in some places, especially in temperate climates, they are sighted by bird watching aficionados, and in other places the buntings' flyways are predictable and heavily travelled.
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| Inca Dove, not participating in the Trail Drive |
Another oddity was the presentation of an entire stampede of about 50 or 60 Inca Doves, all afoot, poking the gravel and hard dirt "street" in front of our place. They were moving as a group, but appeared to be doves having a bout of schizophrenia, or at least personality or cultural disaffection syndrome.
We shall have more to report to-morrow, and in the coming days. For the moment, I am still counting noses, toes, and fingers to make sure that they are all still present and / or accounted for. We thank each and all for the time invested with us on this day.
El Gringo Viejo
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