Constant is the crowing of roosters and the sound of water being swept into drain pipes by the maid and gardener each morning.
Constant is the need for coffee and the need to stand on the roof terrace to study the expansive beauty of San Miguel.
Constant is the presence of pigeons, food venders, green and white taxis, the sound of bells,
the bright, almost fluorescent purple blooms of bougainvillea hanging down stone walls.
Constant are the hills and feeling my legs strain to traverse them, the road repair by street workers,
the Americans who pass and never make eye contact or speak, the presence of children laughing,
birds chirping and butterflies darting through tropical foliage lush and dense.
Constant are the colors of yellow, orange, brick red, rust, purple, azure, and even periwinkle.
Constant are the cloud formations building daily over the mountains to the west or behind us to the east.
to bring the constant rain that finally gave reprieve yesterday and the chance to soak some sun.
Constant is the need to explore down one more cobblestone avenue, narrow and inviting.
Constant is the writing and the creative flow of plots, conflict, arch, dialogue, sight comedy, stage movement, transitions,
substance without being heavy handed, honesty, resolve, and ending, a good ending, a really strong ending.
Constant is the keyboarding and the hitting backspace, delete.
Constant is the need for sleep at past midnight each night and looking through my bedroom windows to the lights
of San Miguel now resting to await another sunrise to express the constant glory of Mexico!
Clayton Scott
Constant is the need for coffee and the need to stand on the roof terrace to study the expansive beauty of San Miguel.
Constant is the presence of pigeons, food venders, green and white taxis, the sound of bells,
the bright, almost fluorescent purple blooms of bougainvillea hanging down stone walls.
Constant are the hills and feeling my legs strain to traverse them, the road repair by street workers,
the Americans who pass and never make eye contact or speak, the presence of children laughing,
birds chirping and butterflies darting through tropical foliage lush and dense.
Constant are the colors of yellow, orange, brick red, rust, purple, azure, and even periwinkle.
Constant are the cloud formations building daily over the mountains to the west or behind us to the east.
to bring the constant rain that finally gave reprieve yesterday and the chance to soak some sun.
Constant is the need to explore down one more cobblestone avenue, narrow and inviting.
Constant is the writing and the creative flow of plots, conflict, arch, dialogue, sight comedy, stage movement, transitions,
substance without being heavy handed, honesty, resolve, and ending, a good ending, a really strong ending.
Constant is the keyboarding and the hitting backspace, delete.
Constant is the need for sleep at past midnight each night and looking through my bedroom windows to the lights
of San Miguel now resting to await another sunrise to express the constant glory of Mexico!
Clayton Scott
Ah, now that's more like it! Love the photos and especially the poem. There's some strong vibes coming through these entries... very delicious.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful photos! Almost a Mediterranean look to the landscape, and that church is amazing. I'm dying to know if you attended the horror film screening in the cemetery?
ReplyDeleteNo it was raining really hard that night so unfortunately we did not get to go. ;-(
ReplyDeleteholler. Annie B from NYC (Limerick/mad hatter lover) is now following. FYI.
ReplyDeleteViva Mexico! Great stuff. I'm just getting to look at..pitiful I know...Love the posts, the pics and Clayton's Poem :)
ReplyDelete~Melissa (your favorite Dock's bar sitter)