Its beginning to be increasingly difficult to imagine the warmth of the sand and bath-water waves over my feet in Mazatlan what with, the beginning of winter that has only but now found the land west along the coast of BC with a slight arctic wind, and a puff of snow scattering across the land with a questionable days end.
Our winters have been mild for years, nothing of it since 1996/1997 with hardy blowing snow plugging up highway over passes with drifts so high that the military was called out to blow a hole through.That year went down on record, and that year I gave birth to a screaming-beautiful-red-headed-daughter looking much like myself through a snowy window of a hospital bearing close in memory today.
"Ah..." but Mazatlan all these years later.What an experience.What luck!What memories that I won't allow a puff of winter blast to erase.Least of all without a fight.
I realized in my online travel after the fact that I might have harbored a false sense of security.I assumed the great amount of paroling Mazatlan police through the city and near the resorts were of an effort to make tourist's feel safe.And while I'm sure that is a portion of the fact, later at home with my eager online reading I would discover the dangers behind my rose tinted sunglasses and sharp looking sun hat.
In a nutshell I had lost my dreamy notions of my trip.I hadn't known in this past week upon returning how to write much more of my adventure with recapturing the events of wonder and amazement, well, until last night, upon speaking with a dear writing friend.I realized there is room to talk at great length of all the positives of a country, just as there's room to speak of the sadder points from which, quite frankly, I imagine others look over out from their safety and festivities within a resort compound.
With that being said, I think within days or weeks I will return to the standing page above titled Mexico, and, continue my adventure, only writing with my first instincts upon that tour bus through Mazatlan, because? in hindsight a journalistic story had already unraveled.
Finding Mexico in my dreams~
The best to you all.Please stay tuned.
Sunday, February 23, 2014
Saturday, February 15, 2014
I can still hear the sounds of the instruments played by a mariachi band playing out on the beach just before sunset, albeit a little off key at times, but, festive nonetheless-just behind the rope that divides the resort from the open beach which goes for miles either direction.
There's simply so much in the folds of my recent memory that need be recorded before it slowly fades, especially the dramatic notions that moved me along with the simple aspects I found along the way. Like an old door in the city of Mazatlan on a tour one day. Such sights of simple doors like this one speaks to me with whispering times of long ago-quiet now with the warm afternoon breeze through a city with many interesting and, sometimes unpleasant scents.
To my writing friends with love.