A moment among the ruins...
A slight wind came across the chaparral, bringing the scent of mesquite and sage with it. Accompanied by a cloud break, the sun came out to join the wind and illuminated the warm fields of marigolds and grasses in the valley below us. The sounds of the village fiestas in the valley below drifted up at a distance of several kilometers as the villagers made preparations for what would be a very long night of traditional observation. The ruins of Monte Alban gave a vantage that seemed as if a single moment wove through the 3000 years of precisely laid stonework and rendered time meaningless.
In Mexico, the living observe the Dias de los Muertos, the "Days of the Dead", or perhaps more accurately described as the "Nights of the Dead" were ahead.
Meant to celebrate the lives of their ancestors, it is not a morbid observation. Homes and hearts are opened in order to welcome the return of the dead to the living. The living are joined in the delicious meals and hearty observation of this holiday, as though the dead had only just left the world and are expected back at any moment. It is a celebration of life, color and spirit in this fiesta the warmth and openness of the Mexican heart is revealed also, you will find just a breath of that spirit here in our ramblings, musings and monologues.