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At the moment two turkeys are gobbling outside. I have seen a curved-bill thrasher and some toehees in the garden. Hummingbirds darting too quickly to identify. But the big deal was in a dead tree near the soccer field on the way to the bus. At first I thought it was a crow, but something was off in the shape. Then it turned its head and there was that bill, full faced like a puffin. It sounded like a squeeky toy. An Ani? I'll keep looking.
Tim has arrived safely, and without incident. We wandered the zocalo, now my second home, watching the men building bamboo structures to which they attached fireworks, for the evenings events. We only realised too late that I have been two hours behind all this time, thus missing the festivities. I knew something was off. Sheesh. Then we lost ourselves in the indoor market, south-west of the zocalo, a laberinth of tiny passageways through booths piled full of everything from vegetables and fruit to leather goods, pottery, hand-crafts, you name it. Mounds of dried chilis and spices. Dried beans and huge blobs of mole! The smell intoxicating. Beautiful sugar skulls. Also this brittle-candy made of pumpkin or squash seeds. Also nuts, flowers, live parrots. Little tin constructions for burning copal. Exqusite baskets and brightly colored local dresses. Today maybe we'll hike to the top of the hill.
I am practicing restraint.

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