notes and reflections

In the Plaza of Arms and Martyrs adjacent to the cathedral in Morelia`s central district is an old-fashioned bandstand of the sort that many small and medium towns in American once had in their public parks and where, on Sundays, local bands would give free public concerts.

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Just a few short blocks from the house I´m renting and adjacent to the surviving section of the massive stone aquaduct that from 1788 brought water to Morelia, is a delightful small park, the Jardin de Villalongin.  Around the four sides of this block-sized park are evenly-spaced iron benches beneath stout, closely-planted, native trees whose thick green crowns are trimmed identically to exactly resemble immense green cakes.

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On the first of July, 2007, after a career as an advertising writer, a television and film producer and director and as a tutor of ESL, I left the United States with the idea of perhaps retiring in Mexico.  After searching the Internet for areas where I might be comfortable, I settled on Morelia in the state of Michoacan.  This is a city  of approximately 1,000,000 with a historic central district dating from the 1500s, a mild year around climate and many modern features including an excellent language school, theaters, museums, supermarkets and, perhaps unfortunately, MacDonalds and Starbucks.

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