When we returned yesterday from a fast trip to Morelia, I saw that the tarp that covers the Kingsford Barrel Charcoal Grill had blown off. We keep the grill under the protection of our front "porch", yet a shift of wind had removed it. Susan said it was the March winds come early.
Photo of paper mill air pollution.
Marzo es un mes de vientos fuertes e impulsivos. The neighbors' metal gates slam and clatter in the whims of the wind. If we're not careful to put the in door stops, our doors slam shut with an alarming bang. Almost all of our doors are wood, so they are quiter, but even if they were metal, I believe the gusts of wind could slam them.
A couple of years ago, we lay sleepless during siesta time, listening to the moans and screeches of the wind whistling through the vacant houses up the street.
This morning I awoke to a whiff of a different smell than our accustomed muted aromas of farm animals and the rare musky, funky odor of a skunk. It was the distinctive stink of the paper mill below the hill descending to the valley of Morelia. This was a sure sign that the prevailing winds had shifted fom west to east. Nature, playing ping-pong with the winds, had surmounted the hill and delivered us an unsolicited ream of chemical pong.
There's a beautiful new factory, the "Fábrica de Jabón", on the Morelia-Pátzcuaro highway, in the final stages of construction. It is closer to us than the paper mill. It remains to be smelled whether it will waft sweet aromas or render the stink of rancid fats.