"A late afternoon shower welcomed us to Puebla, and the air was cool. We checked into the comfortable old Hotel Coloniál (the hotel building has been on the city map since 1668), then walked to the tiny shop of our friend Miguel.
Miguel, his wife Lila, and their son Daniel were there to greet us – as were a crowd of humorous little skeleton figures that Miguel and his wife produce in their home. Skeletons on skis, skeletons playing tennis, skeletons at work – seemingly as alive as you and me (maybe more alive than me). You can see them for yourself at Chiripa.
"In the evening, we strolled around Puebla’s beautiful colonial zócalo (central plaza). Across from the cathedral, workers had cut down a huge old tree – the patriarch of all the trees on the zócalo (other trees also seemed to be in bad shape). The benevolent old tree had looked down on generations of strolling lovers, beaming parents, and chattering children chasing pigeons, but now it was just a carcass lying in the street. Workers with chain saws hacked at the outer rings of its huge trunk – like the crew of the Pequod hacking at the carcass of a giant whale.
"There is a new sculpture in the zócalo – a kind of white illuminated maze with trees wrought in iron. At its base is a quotation that goes something like this: “It is true that we must all leave this life. But the works that we labor to create, with all our strength and determination, will endure forever.” That may or may not be true, but the kindly old tree is definitely gone." -JM Aug 4, 2009
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