My mind was saturated at the end of this week: School resumed after the two-week Easter holiday, so I was meeting with students and reading essays; I began co-teaching an English class for elementary school teachers; and I began an intensive Spanish course at the Universidad de Guanajuato's language school, so my mind was reeling with new information about the Mexican Revolution, recipes for frijoles charros (cowboy beans), and the classification of verbs. So this morning it was refreshing huir a la Sierra de Santa Rosa - to flee to the mountains of Santa Rosa again for a long morning run.
We drove the cobbled main road up the hill through the tiny, tranquil town, passing burros carrying firewood and a herd of goats, then we began our run on a small dirt road. The dirt road became a single-track path that became a tangle of brush - including a grove of the striking, red-barked, gracefully twisting branches of the pingüita shrub. Our friend led us through the thicket until we reached an open space tucked deep into the mountains. At the center of the clearing was a solitary tejocote tree, reveling alone in a glory of white blossoms.
Earlier this week, Mark met with the director of a local conservation organization, Cuerpos de Conservación Guanajuato, that is engaged in environmental protection work in the Sierra de Santa Rosa. A book that describes their work states,
Capturar momentos y lugares que ilustren lo majestuoso y el mismo tiempo lo esencial del patrimonio natural de Guanajuato es emprender un viaje por generosos paisajes humanos y naturalezas que la sierra de Santa Rosa oculta.
To capture the moments and places that illustrate the majesty and at the same time the essential natural heritage of Guanajuato is to begin a journey through the ample human and natural landscapes that the mountains of Santa Rosa hide.
To see just some of the secrets held in these mountains, under such blue skies - I am grateful.
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