One of the amazing things about San Miguel is the variety of sounds that define it. The rooster crow, the dog bark, the distinctive whistle of the scissor sharpener (legend say if you jiggle your pockets when you hear him whistle, money will come to you). The clanging bells of the garbage truck signaling one to bring out their garbage to throw on the truck. The chapel bells calling all to Mass, the trucks laboring to crawl up the hills, the whistle of young men. The birds. The thunder and the thunder of fireworks.
When it is quiet it is startling.

We decide to go to el Jardin Botanico, the natural reserve right over the hill from our Casa. It is 220 acres of plants and wildlife with hiking paths throughout. We are accompanied by Perro, who acts as though we own her. We spotted the “No Dogs” sign upon entry, but perhaps she did not. She left us after two hours of hiking.

This last photo is for my friend Dan Dan. Nuf said.