IMPRESIONES II – Zihuatanejo Snaps

On our last day here in beautiful Zihuatanejo each year, I always try to open up the pores of my awareness and let all the sensations soak into me one last time. After all, those memories will have to last me through the rest of this cold, gray winter (in fact, a winter storm's hitting home right now!) and much of next before we can come back.

Here are a few more of my impresiones of this amazing, wonderful place.

 

  

Buenas tardes. Buenas noches. Hasta pronto, Zihuatanejo...

IMPRESIONES I – Zihuatanejo Snaps

I've gone on and on here and elsewhere about my wife's and my love affair with Zihuatanejo, Guerrero, Mexico. During each winter's stay here, I've posted my visual/verbal reflections in the form of photos, prose...hm-m-m, I think there's probably even been a line or two of what might pass as poetry.

This year, as our precious month here comes to its bittersweet end, I just want to share a few parting shots, impresiones, one would say in Spanish, of why this place, with all its lush colors and patterns, its heady smells, the slow, steady rhythms of its lifestyle, and the warm generosity of its people, touches my heart and soul.

This is the first in a several-part series.

COUPLE O' BUGS – Zihuatanejo Snaps

I found this ornate creature climbing a young palm's trunk this morning. Bristles on bristles and elegant white spats to boot. My instinct was not to touch him even if I wanted to -- would you?
Turns out he is indeed highly poisonous when touched, according to my friends here who know more about local critters than I.

I thought this was a walking stick...until he flew! He resented the intrusion, turning, staring and springing right at my lens. Anyone besides him know what he is?
If you said a praying mantis, you're right -- one of some 2,200 species of mantodea found worldwide in temperate and tropical climes.

ETCHED IN WHITE – Life and Death In Snow

END OF THE TRAIL
One snowy morning I took our miniature schnauzer, Abby, outside for her morning toilette in the back yard. The sparkling blanket of the fresh snow was pristine, but for the occasional trail of tiny paw prints. I could tell the squirrel path by its much bigger paw marks and the broad indentations the animal had made as it alternately hopped and sank into the snow.

Each of the marks had one quite distinct edge; the other, delicately drawn, as if by a series of very soft brushes…

Another very delicate set of prints caught my eye—probably those of a field mouse or a vole. The quarter-inch-long impressions led across an unspoiled patch of snow and then simply stopped. No tree, no hole in the snow…just stopped. Looking more closely, I noticed that the last few tracks were flanked symmetrically by two large, subtle depressions in the snow, each about the size of my forearm.

End of the trail for a bigger critter—a rabbit perhaps -- PHOTO: Susan Barstow

On further inspection—this is when the chill went up my spine—I saw that each of the marks had one quite distinct edge; the other, delicately drawn, as if by a series of very soft brushes…or feathers! It was then I knew that the last thing the poor little devil had experienced in this life had been the piercing clutch of the owl's talons.

RUNNING NARRATIVE
It’s for this ability to record such comings and goings that snow is such an asset to hunters, detectives, anyone who needs to track another creature. Besides the obvious information like the number, size and direction of your quarry, snow tracks can reveal to the trained eye things like the animal’s weight, age, or even if it walked with a limp.

For me, though, it's not so much the practical information snow can provide as it is the narrative, the life-and-death drama, it recounts. 

My wife and I were cross-country skiing on fresh snow in northern Minnesota’s Boundary Waters Wilderness when we came across a set of fresh wolf tracks crossing the ski trail at right angles. When I stopped to look around, I noticed there was another set of tracks about ten yards ahead of me. I edged along and came across five more equally spaced, parallel sets of wolf tracks.



I didn’t know whether to feel happy or sad when I discovered...the tracks of a medium-sized white-tail deer.

I’d heard that these skilled hunters often spread out like this when tracking their prey—an effective way to comb a large area for sights and scents. I didn’t know whether to feel happy or sad when I discovered, between the last two “teeth” of the “comb,” the tracks of a medium-sized white-tail deer.

I was tempted to follow them to see if I could find signs of either prey’s or predators’ success. For some odd reason, my wife wouldn't let me go.

What comings and goings, what living and dying, have you discovered 
etched in snow? We'd love to hear about it. C'mon, join the conversation!

TIME-LAPSE, NATURE'S WAY – Zihuatanejo Snaps

This exuberant plant, just down the stairs from our villa, caught my eye this morning. For those  succulent, dewy-puffball ovules; for pointed petals that seem to have just pierced their way out; for the frosty shroud wrapping each cluster of flowers.

But what struck me most of all was the format, this four-shot, time-lapse glimpse of the passage from bud to blossom—perfect but for that last reluctant bloom.

BIG BAD BEE – Zihuatanejo Snaps

I found this spectacular creature lying on the street in the La Madera neighborhood here in Zihuatanejo, Guerrero, Mexico. At first, I had no idea what it was—I wanted to call it a lion bee for its golden, hairy mane and legs. (My friend Wil, a great tour guide and naturalist here, has since told me it's a carpenter bee, newly emerged from its pupa stage.)

When I bent over to take this photo, I couldn't tell if the thing was alive, but as my lens got close to it, it turned and came charging at me. Alive it was, but still not quite ready to try its surprisingly small wings.

I'm so glad I got to see one of these carpenter bees at this stage, because they're beautiful! Wil says they turn all black within a couple hours of hatching, and that, despite its Davidian grit, it has no stinger and is harmless.

While I was shooting, this boy came riding past on his bike and noticed me kneeling down. He stopped and gently nudged the insect onto this dried leaf to give us a closer view.

I was concerned the kid might feel he could best help us by stepping on it, but I found he's a real Nature lover—a kindred spirit. I found that really encouraging!

The bee eventually flew away to blacken, unmolested, in the safety of a bush.

HOMAGE TO THE SEA – Zihuatanejo Snaps

 A few quintillion grains of sand; five waves a minute for eons.

Inevitably the masterpiece emerges, an homage to the sea 
by all the land creatures.

Reaching down, muzzle and hoof and beak, they bow 
to touch the sculptor's quicksilver hand.