Seasons here move along like a musical score, the highs and lows, crescendos and diminuendos, but always in a melody that soothes the spirit and stimulates the heart.
Seasons blend together
nothing is the same, and yet
Each passing season’s yesterday,
like footsteps in the sand,
makes an impression
then washed into the sea of memory.
Too early even
for the blue mockingbird’s song.
Universal spring, born on the same day
as snowdrops and jacaranda blossoms,
while daylight is still percolating,
and the Sierra Madres dressed in grey mist,
wait for the sun
to disrobe them,
baring the backbone of Mexico.
Death is all that it is made out to be,
a means to an end,
and so winter’s last breath:
anxiously waiting for the end
to begin again in the arms of Aurora.
Some say there are no seasons here,
just a variation on a theme,
of what blossoms day to day,
where the sun comes up in the morning,
and how long it stays.
The photography focuses on Lake Chapala and the surrounding villages that include Ajijic, Chapala, Jocotepec an so much more. In addition to my pics many have been contributed by Antonio Ramblés . Visit Antonio Ramblés travels blog at www.antoniorambles.com