2003-10-24 - 12:47 p.m.
Michoacan, the state I'm in right now, is Middle Earth. I'm not kidding. Hobbitland. It is one big stretch of green, rolling hills, farm land, avocado orchards, bordered by pine covered mountains, broken up by silvery lakes and patches of tiny white town with red tile roof.
I've driven down cobblestone roads (not streets ... road, miles and miles of it) through forests so thick it was like being in a green fog. But of course there are always giant agave and roadside shrines strewn with flowers, candles, and paper streamers. To remind you that you are in Mexican Hobbitland.
Strange Mexican kid, whose name is Obeth, took me on a hike up the mountain overlook of the town. We sat on a patch of grass at the edge of a great black cliff and looked out the huge silver lake below. It is so big it actually has islands, with whole towns on them.
It's wildflower season here. Nobody I know knows the names of the flowers ... Yellow fuzz splattered with big pink dots, miniature white umbrellas, violet knobs on long green stalks. I've seen butterflies as big as a man's hand. We found a daddy long leg, black with a safety red body, bopping along around them. And then a bee showed up and was more interested in us than the flowers so we had to leave. Stupid bee.
