As close as one looks there is always more to see

Gardening and passion are one in the same for many that embark on horticultural adventures in Alamos. There are right ways, wrong ways, and the ways of trial and error. There are friends, neighbors, hired help, books and the internet to help one plant, raise and blossom. It is about design, texture, color, creating and life itself.
It is better to have planted and lost than never planted at all.

There are gardens and there are gardens and there was the Jacoby gardens.

I took this photo of Judith Jacoby’s gardens in 1983 with Gaspar Vega standing amongst an explosion of spring blooms. This property was once a tequila factory warehouse owned by the Urrea family. The many Jacoby gardens start in court yards surrounding the house and spread out into large open areas. These are formal gardens set in a landscape that changes dramatically with the seasons. I will return to further explore her gardens in future posts. Gardens, in general, provide Alamos, hopefully, controlled splashes of color.

Gardens come in many colors, sizes, budgets, time commitments and intents.

The flora of Alamos is the many splendors of Sinaloan tropical forest and Sonoran desert living together in unexpected harmony. Many properties have gardeners watering, pruning, consulting, planting, cutting, raking, commiserating, trimming and… year round. Flowers and vegetables are planted in November for winter blooms and crops that last until May or June’s heat… Mangos, papayas, bananas, palms, amapas, orchidias and other trees provide food and shelter for native and migrating birds. Cascades of colors come from flowering vines: blue veracruzana, orange trumpet, red, magenta and orange bougainvilla and… And the smells and scents that envelope one’s senses… Formal, informal… it all contributes to this symphony and riot that is the passing seasons in Alamos, Sonora, Mexico.

Behold a Cornucopia of Color, Shapes, Textures and Scents.
Alamos has six seasons a year and a diversity of native and imported flora. Gardening is both a passion and industry. It can become all consuming. It can be an mental oasis, freedom from the outside world’s cares and concerns. And it is something to share with those who visit, be it bug, bird, mammal or human.

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A Way of Life
Gardens are places where we create new worlds, places of spirit or substance, or both… and more. Here we paint, design, experiment, learn, smell, admire, eat… Alamos, Sonora, Mexico is such a place, the valley itself is a garden where desert and dry tropical forest coexist.

Photos, editing and produced by Anders Tomlinson. Music is “Jardin de Colores”, written and performed by Samuel Delatorre Dorame, from his 2013 CD “Memorias de Alamos, Sonora.”

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Bird's eye view of country life mere minutes from Plaza de las Armas.

The sun has just climbed over Red Cross Hill and reached Barrio El Barranco. Everyday details emerge as dark shadows quickly recede into bright sunlight. Notes and rhythms of farm animals, human voices, song and foraging nature presented in rural surround sound replaces town’s sonic-scape of commerce, government, religion, education and tourism.

Living on a road that ends in the steep hills that become northern mountains.

These roads are traveled on foot, bicycles, cars, trucks, horseback and with burro. Soccer and baseball are played in the open areas. Laundry is washed in a tub by hand and then hung on a line to dry. Leisure time bows to the necessity of thrift and exercise is a healthy by-product of doing without the grid for certain essential tasks.
Life here is not a step backwards from the modern world, it is a life of contemporary balance, reality, and family. Laughs here are as loud as any in Centro Alamos.

Built high above the road protects from marauding animals and flash floods.

Here is a close-up of the casa featured in the preceding photos. The paint is new and adds vibrant visual interest to those passing by on Calle 16 de Septiembre.
The homes are small, families are large with numerous pets and much of the heat and cooking comes from wood. Sticks are a way of life for many.

Kids playing on the roads of Barrio El Barranco.

El Mirador is seen in the background, south, as Calle 16 de Septiembre bends to the left, west, on its way out of town. Soon there will be no road, only a path headed into the surrounding wilderness. The road is filled with kids playing and the oldest care for the youngest. The young boy is serenading the young girl, each with an infant in their arms.

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Downtown Aduana on a typical weekday morning. Remants of mining dot the hills.

Spanish conquistador Vasquez de Coronado camped here during the winter of 1540-41. He was searching for gold in what turned out to be mountains with veins of silver. The mines closed in 1906 after nearly 400 years of continuous mining. La Aduana was the “custom office”, it was all about taxes and royalties. Life was hard and short with the hazards of the mines and the chemicals used in the extraction process. The curse of quicksilver had a wide footprint.

Today, seven miles west of Alamos, Aduana is what it is.

Here seven miles west of Alamos, at 2,500 feet elevation with surrounding mountains as high as 4,700 feet, Aduana has less than 300 people where once there was 5,000. A church, country store, cemetery, a small restaurant-inn, a plaza with a dry fountain in its center surrounded by the past is Aduana today. And for some this is their home. And these are their hills with their months of desert and long summer of jungle.

The woman come out to show their wares when visitors arrive.

Located near the church is La Aduana Art & Crafts. This is a cooperative of local ladies, seen here, with their products. This photo was taken in 1997. I wonder what Aduana is like today. I know the dust is the same and radios and televisions sing and speak from isolated homes. But has the realities of 2011 arrived? While researching Aduana on the internet I was surprised to see alamos-sonora-mexico.com being quoted, some would say plagiarized, by others sites. Indeed, this is 2011. In the next wave of Alamos video editing – mid May, scenes from Aduana will be posted.

A cactus grows out of a church wall and people come to pray.

This is not the London Bridge or the Grand Canyon but it is a quiet moment, in a now quiet town, that inspires those who believe.

Two generations gather for a drink at the local water hole - more puddle.

These burros could be descendants of working Aduana burros from the 1600’s. It was a hard life: grinding down ore in quicksilver or moving silver from the mines, to the Alamos treasury to Mexico City and back for another trip loaded with needed supplies.
Beasts of burden relax and calm La Aduana morning. Birds and insects fill the sky with sound. It is becoming warmer.

Just think of all that took place deep within this silver mine. Think of the men. Think of how and why they are there. Think of their typical day. Think of where they laid down to sleep. Think of what they eat.

Here was Silver

Once this was a major silver mining town in all the world. Today, it is tucked away up in the hills with a quiet plaza and dry fountain. It is calm. Mining remnants dot the hillside. They are reminders of what was and what is.
Photos and editing by Anders Tomlinson. Music from “Camino Songs” by SonicAtomics.

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There was a day that this was the edge of town looking west towards wilderness.

1914 was in the middle of turbulent times for the region. Yaquis and Mayos were joining forces with Obregon and Villa’s armies. Venustiano Carranza became the third Mexican President in two years. One of them, Francisco Madero, was assassinated. Hard times were here. Maria de los Angeles Felix Guerrean was born April 8, 1914. This window looked out from her birth place. She had eleven sisters and brothers. They lived here until 1929 when they left for Guadalajara. Soon her beauty would be nationally recognized.

An Alamos beauty walks down Calle Galeana in 1993. Photo by Gary Ruble.

This is where Maria Felix was born and raised, riding horseback in a land that was losing its mines. Her father was of Yaqui Indian blood and her Spanish blood mother was raised in a Pico Heights, California convent. Much of the beauty that is seen in the faces of Alamos is a product of interlocking bloodlines that span the globe. There are European, Asian, eastern Indian, Philippine and indigenous Indian features across town. Maria described herself as ” a woman with a man’s heart.” She was a commanding presence, a beautiful liberator, a woman beyond her times. She made 47 films in Mexico and France. She became internationally recognized. She published a bestselling autobiography in 1993, All My Wars. And this is where her life’s journey began..

Step forward in time, it is now September 1996, late afternoon.

Hurricane Fausto was the storm that leveled the walls. The window is gone. Galeana #41 is now a mother of all ruins. A passing carriage takes tourists around town. Tomorrow would be another day. In 1999, Lynda Barondes bought Galeana #41. She was to learn later that this was the birthplace of Maria Felix. In 2002, part of Lynda’s restoration efforts, a Museum opened here with three rooms dedicated to the spirit Maria Felix embodied. The Museum closed in 2012 as Lynda sold the property and moved to the nearby southern foothills overlooking Alamos.

Buckle-up as we take a super fast-rock n’ roll car ride through Alamos on a grey winter day.
Driving Across Alamos on an overcast December day starts at La Puerta Roja Inn. We head east and circle the Plaza de Las Armas before heading to the Panteon – Cemetery. We head back to La Puerta Roja exploring different routes. The best way to travel is walking. Video…

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The Alamos cemetery provides an inspired and sacred work place.

There is always work for the grave diggers be it preparing the graves or maintaining the cemetery in a park-like setting for visitors and residents alike.

Another inhabitant will soon join those from the near and distant past.

Hours layer this grave will be occupied. Across town friends and family are preparing for a day all knew would come sooner or later. The earth gives way to the relentless pick.

The maestro's assistant watches another tombstone in progress.

Tombstones are made outdoors across Arroyo La Barranca and Arroyo La Aduana at the foot of Cerro Compana. Words of love and respect are chiseled into stone as stone gives way to the persistent Maestro’s tools.

A time of loss, mourning, memorializing and inner reflection.

The church is ready, the church is always ready. The body has arrived followed by those who wish to say farewell and share with others this sad moment of passing.

Church bells ring out as solemn friends and family approach.

For one the wait is over, for others it is an emotional weight that will slowly pass with time. Today a name will be spoken out loud, in months it will be recalled in mind and soul and whispered to no one but oneself and the universe.
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After church services the procession across town begins as bells ring.

A mass leaves mass and the cobblestones of Alamos bear witness to another passing. There is a path from the church to the cemetery that has been worn smooth by loss and love.

A procession travels through Barrio La Compana as it nears the cemetery.

And they came in numbers day after day, year after year, century after century… it is what humans do. They walk, they talk, they cry and recall moments that were and plans that did not come to be… it is what humans do.

The procession has slowly made its way east from the church.

The fresh grave awaits, clouds line the morning horizon, crows chatter in surrounding trees and barrio dogs go about their barking as the sounds of daily Alamos life echoes off surrounding hills and mountains. For some, at this moment, their world has stopped amidst the world that goes on uninterrupted.

The dead await a new arrival, passing feet kick up dust, little needs to be said.

People travel narrow pathways, cut flowers, in passing, brush against closely place tombs. The street-wide procession through town from church has become a solemn single rank slow marching to the grave.

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On this day Arroyo La Aduana does not encourage crossing.

Blusters from a hurricane passing over Alamos from the Sea of Cortez flooded the arroyos overnight. The town awoke to three avalanches of rushing water. Folks came to the water’s edge and marveled at the sound and fury of nature. And then some understood there are paradoxes embedded into natural orders of things; water, water everywhere – but not a drop to capture and command. Thankfully, gravity will ensure the surrounding aquifer receives a recharge.

Alamos, for this moment, has become the three rivers city of Sonora.

The view from Mirador looking to the northwest was another side of Alamos rarely seen, the town’s eastern center surrounded on two sides by water. I believe this was the doings of Pacific Tropical Cyclone Fausto headed northeast for Texas. Nature, you have to live with it because you can’t live without it. Why isn’t this Planet Water instead of Planet Earth?

The storm passed, the sun came out and the waters began to recede.

When the arroyos recede they become passable on on foot, bike and vehicle. Children take to the water, it is now fun, a challenge they can conquer. This boy is crossing Arroyo La Aduanaa and headed towards the Missionaries of Fatima’s monastery.

An occasional summer storm floods three arroyos in Alamos with mountain runoff.
Summer is the rainy season and tropical storms, remnant of hurricanes, can come in from the Sea of Cortez to the west. This is the morning after a storm hit the region hard the previous evening.

Storms come and go. The summer rains are here, the sweet night air cools warm bodies bringing relief and contemplation. The purity and hope of laughing young couples, alone with each other, drenched to the bone, clinging wet clothes, make their way home late at night splashing and dancing in cobblestone puddles. Above, the heavens explode, a cannonade of thunder rumbles across silhouetted mountain ridges backlit by fantastic lightening. It is time to go to asleep under one sheet in the cool of a warm night.

The summer rains are here, the sweet night air cools warm bodies bringing relief and contemplation. The purity and hope of laughing young couples, alone with each other, drenched to the bone, clinging wet clothes, make their way home late at night splashing and dancing in cobblestone puddles. Above, the heavens explode, a cannonade of thunder rumbles across silhouetted mountain ridges backlit by fantastic lightening. It is time to go to asleep under one sheet in the cool of a warm night. And then the big storm, remnants of a tropical typhoon, arrived. In an instant the sky turned angry dark, the air became colder and a deafening wind shrieked through the trees. It rained and continuously howled from late afternoon until just before dawn. In the morning, stunned town folk came out and watched from a safe distance the fast running rivers that are normally dry arroyos. Over the coming days waters receded, children played in cool shallow pools and rock men filled their trucks with fresh sand. Photos and editing by Anders Tomlinson.
Music from “Camino Songs” by SonicAtomics.

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Looking west, explorer Coronado was struck by this mountain and landscape.

Tucked away in a picturesque valley in the foothills of the Sierra Madre is an enchanted Shangri-La that sings of other eras. Indians called this region Calimaya long before Spanish Explorer Vasquez de Coronado noted in 1540, ” here is something special…”

The Spaniards called this land Real de los Frailes because of some tall white rocks resembling hooded monks overlooking a small Indian village shaded by cottonwoods.

These towering rocks speak loudly. They call for, and command, your attention.

In 1683, 143 years after Coronado, two abundant veins of silver were discovered seven miles to the west of present day Alamos. The mines of Aduana and Minas Nuevas, in a zone 4.5 by 1.5 miles, produced an estimated $100,000,000 in 1910 dollars.

Aduana is now a sleepy little village amid mine ruins.

Soon, Alamos was the richest and most important city on the El Camino Real. Juan de Anza departed Alamos in September 1775 with local families and freshly mined silver to settle San Francisco. Alamos money and citizens were also vital for expeditions that settled Monterey, Santa Barbara and five years later, Los Angeles. Father Kino used the Royal treasury to finance a chain of missions in northern Sonora and southern Arizona. The Bishop and Governor resided in Alamos, as did the first high school, printing press and newspaper and important trading center.

The plaza was the heartbeat of Alamos as it grew in power and prestige.

The lure of silver brought international miners from Europe and other continents. On the Sea of Cortez galleons from Asia, Phillipines and Europe called on the port of Huatabampo loaded with cargo, a week by burro from Alamos. They brought luxuries such as silk and satin and the world’s finest furniture. Opera Companies visited. China minted coins here. Merchants came from India and Japanese supervised a silk factory. The indigenous population included Mayos, Yaquis, and Tarahumaras. Hordes of miners and traders, who endured great hardships in their travels, overran Alamos.

As many as 30,000 people made Alamos their home during the peak of its glory in the 18th century. Here, new Spain was pomp and circumstance with a beautiful Church, grand haciendas built in the style of Andalusia, Spain, flower-filled patios, romantic serenades, elegant carriages, flourishing commerce, and mines that ranked amongst the most productive in the world.

The Past is Alive in the Structures and the Sparkle of an Eye.

For the past 300 years Alamos has been built and shaped by families of wealth and taste. Experienced builders and skilled craftsmen, through good times and bad, have gone about town building and restoring ruins. Today it is a National Colonial Monument, an ageless tribute to the men and women who entrusted their designs, possessions and dreams to the future.

The Plaza was the prize, conquer the Plaza and Alamos was yours.

The Sunday promenade in Plaza de Armas goes back to the 1680’s. In peaceful times families gathered here for conversation, worship and grand public celebrations. The church and prominent colonial mansions were built surrounding the plaza for protection against the Indians: Tarahumara, Yaquis, Mayos and Apaches. Later, the plaza afforded a prestigious address.

Looking down from the Church at a street sweeper on Calle Comercio.

The Alameda, the commercial center of Alamos, was laid out in 1769.

For Every Action There is An Equal and Opposite Reaction.

With prosperity came hardship. The poor could not afford the inflated prices of merchandise shipped by pack trains from Guadalajara and Mexico City, a hazardous trek that took four months. Indians were used as slaves or cheap labor. Sanitation and disease were a problem: in 1770 alone plague wiped out 6,000 people.

There are times when the Plaza is quiet and reflective and there are times when...

There were continual power struggles between Colonels, Governors, Admirals, Priests, Bishops, and an unending parade of Royal emissaries. The city was heavily taxed by the Crown and by those who controlled the local territory. Political instability raged, treaties and agreements were broken. Alamos had its ups and downs depending on the mood of the day, month and seasons.

Alamos endured two centuries of siege mentality and the prize was control of silver and politics. At one time or another the plaza was overrun by the Spanish, Mexican colonists, Federalists, Liberals, French, Apaches, Independents, Reformers, Pancho Villa, Renegade soldiers and bandits. Along with droughts, pestilence and floods Indians continued constant uprising. Apaches came south to plunder and the independent Tarahumara sought revenge for their forced slavery. By 1849 only 4,000 people remained in Alamos. The miners had left for California’s gold rush.

And Then They Were Gone.

Trade shifted from El Camino Real to coastline ports. Plazas, arches, ornate ironwork, hand carved wood, high ceilings and cobblestone streets fell upon hard times. Roofs caved in leaving two to five foot thick walls open to the sky. The once great patios filled with debris. Despite the wars, bad weather and impoverished neglect. old families stayed, as did some miners. Alamos continued on… the sun would rise another day in this land that remained in a forgotten age.

The streets of this National Colonial Monument echo history, here, one is never alone.

The Plaza is peaceful these days. Alamos streets are safe from intruders and invaders.
Town folks sleep well at night knowing tomorrow is another day, another song, another hug, another laugh, another challenge, another moment to be part of Alamos…

And Then Along Came A Man Named Levant.

Not until the 1950’s did a lone American, Levant Alcorn, come to the cobble stone streets, and see the potential for the future. He saw value in the plazas, arches, ornate iron-work, carved wood doors, high ceilings, five-foot thick walls and proximity to the United States International border.

Late in his life, a childlike Levant had a quick smile and a fading memory.

He began to acquire ruined mansions. Soon, he was selling property to independent Americans hoping to realize their dream standard of living. Restoration projects began and continue today. Now, Alamos has over 200 American families as part of its social fabric.

Roofs are always in need of repair. They are also another place to relax.

Each wall, every window and door is a story. Where did it come from, how and when did it get here? Was it made by an Alamos or imported craftsmen?

There is a prideful sense of ownership that comes with undertaking a restoration project that in reality will never end. And there is a humble realization that the casa is really owned by history and this is but a brief opportunity to be part of a continuum of gatekeepers and masters.

Restoration-maintenance is an industry, it is a way of life. Owners, maestros, workers
and house-help are a team that can last a lifetime.

Think of the coats of paint these columns have worn over the past 200 years.

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Alamos school kids attend Independence Day celebration in the Plaza.

When I think of Alamos I think of its history and my first question is how many Indians were in the area when Diego de Guzman, nephew of Spanish explorer Cortes, passed through the region in 1533 on well traveled native trails. Mexico’s Indian population was estimated to be as high as 25 million in 1519, most living in the great valley of Mexico. By 1523 the considered Indian population had been reduced to 16.8 million and further cut to 6.3 million by 1548. The Indian population continued to decline in 1580 with a thought of 1.9 million and one million in 1605. If these numbers are any way close to what actually happened they speak of apocalyptic times for Mexico’s Indians.

People from many nations have walked, for centuries, on these cobblestones.

The population of Alamos through the years is sketchy at best. The first information I could find was for 1760 when Alamos had an estimated 800 families and a population of 3,400 with 5 – 6 priests. At this time the world’s population was 846 million.
6,000 are estimated to have died from the plague in 1770.
1780 Alamos reaches its largest population, 15,000 to 30,000. Can you imagine what the lifestyles of both rich and poor were in this protected valley at that time?

The stories of population are the stories of birth, migration and death.

Alamos populations fluctuated during the 19th Century as mining and political interests rising rose and fell, came and left.1800, Alamos estimated population was 9,000.
1803, there are some 7,900 folks here.
The world’s population reached one billion by 1804.
1825, Alamos population is an estimated 5,000 to 7,000.
1837, an interestingly specific figure of 2,872 people is noted.
1849, 4,300 inhabitants call Alamos home. At this time many miners have, or are, leaving for the California gold fields.
1850 – 1880, the population apparently remains a steady 5,000.
The first official Mexican census was accomplished in 1895.

Through feast and famine there has been a Sunday promenade in the Plaza.

Here is an outline of the population in 1908: 10,000 for the region. This figure is then broken down to 3,000 in Alamos, 1,000 in Aduana, 1,000 in Navajoa, 1,000 in Promontories, 1,000 in Minas Nuevas and 1,000 in Camoa.
The world’s population reaches two billion in 1927.
The population estimate for the region in 1940, official census count, was 21,477: 11,543 men and 9,835 women. I found another from another source that the population of the city at this time may have been 5,369 hombres and 4,848 mujeres over the age of six.
The world’s population reaches three billion in 1960, four billion in 1974, and five billion in 1987.
The census for 1990 has Alamos with 6.132 inhabitants and a total of 13,000 for the municipality.
The world’s population reaches six billion in 1999 and is forecasted to reach seven billion in 2011.
Today, Alamos population estimates are 13,000 for the city and 30,000 in the municipality.

And here is a thought for the future, the largest migration across the USA – Mexico border may not be south to north, as it has been in the past, but retired baby boomers heading south during the coming decades. Planet Earth is always in motion, always changing.

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The sun has risen from behind these forbiding ridges, the silence is deafening.

From here, looking east, one’s imagination is stirred by the forbidding, virtually impenetrable
Sierra Madre Occidentals. This is the legendary “Mother Range” protecting Mexico’s great central plateau. Behold ridge after volcanic ridge, separated by deep narrow canyons, marching on for a hundred miles, and climbing to ten thousand feet where giant hawks and eagles soar. The monumental silence is all powerful. Time is reduced to mere sand, worn off of towering rock faces and airborne on the wind. These endless ridges conjure up stark silhouettes of reclining warriors, upon whose barren stomachs humble life persists. Over the horizon, to the southwest, is the famous Copper Canyon region.

Summer time is vibrant as surrounding foothills come alive with green growth.

The eye continues to sweep the horizon and returns, as it always does, to the cathedral’s classically proportioned three-tiered belfry announcing civilization on the half hour.
Past, present and future comes together, in a special way, as one walks down hand swept cobblestone streets listening to laughing children behind bougainvillea-crowned walls.
Here, is the eternal blue sky that is Alamos, Sonora, Mexico.

©2010 Anders Tomlinson, all rights reserved.

In a magnificent setting there is this fig tree to admire and celebrate.

Pember and Elizabeth Nuzum owned a lot off a dirt road in the Chaleton area, place of the fig trees, west of Alamos. They planned to built a tennis court on it. One day Elizabeth traveled further west on the road and came across this fig tree. It was love at first site. She coaxed Pember into selling their lot, and it sold unexpectedly quickly. Elizabeth, on her own, purchased the undeveloped three acres with the fig tree from Martha and Al Haywood. Elizabeth christen the property El Pedregal, the stoney place. This was her project, her experimental place to build and plant what she wanted. It was her dream to bring art, community and nature together under the out-stretched limbs of a magnificent fig tree.

Elizabeth loved her big green door that was El Pedregal's entrance.

The first thing Elizabeth did at El Pedregal was build a meandering road leading through and around the property to the fig tree. The heavy green gates at Pedregal’s entrance, where the public dirt road comes to its end, were made from old doors Elizabeth collected in town. She had put them together by Nemecio Figueroa in his family’s carpenter shop on the way to the Panteon, cemetery, at the eastern edge of town. Behind these green gates there were, and are, worlds of natural wonder. The seasons pass as birds, insects and mammals come and go.

A straw-bale studio…

Elizabeth Nuzum wanted to build a straw-bale house in Alamos. She did.

Elizabeth had read the book Out on a Limb by Peter and Victoria Nelson. It was about tree houses and other construction such as straw-bale houses. Elizabeth decided she wanted to build a straw-bale in her garden of experiments. She contacted the Nelsons as they were preparing to visit Russia and demonstrate straw-bale technology. They recommended that she talk to the authors of The Straw-Bale House, Bill and Athena Steen. Elizabeth felt it was important to build a straw-bale structure as an example of what could be a relatively inexpensive home concept for Mexico. Unable to have an expert come down to build the straw-bale studio she relied on the Steen’s book and hired her son-in-law Chacho Valdez and his brothers to start the project. Chacho would build the basic structure: roof, walls and an unfinished floor.

A palapa for all seasons and reasons…

The Palapa was the first structure built at El Pedregal. It was a work office.

Before the Straw-bale studio was started Elizabeth and Chacho took a stick and scribed out a large circle as the palapa’s floor-plan. Her intent was to have a place where people could socialize and admire the fig tree. She wanted it to have two entrances and no center pole. Chacho said it could be done and he went about construction.

The amazing hand-woven palapa roof took a crew five months to put together as they had to wait for after full moons to collect the palapa leaves. As work continued on the property the fig tree was host to shamanic dances, earth renewal ceremonies, sweat lodges, barbecues, coffee parties, art classes and…

Chacho Valdez, man of mystery…

Chaco Valdez, renaissance man, making a spiritual point and jump starting a car.

I always thought of Chacho as a rock n’ roll medicine man. He looked like a pirate with long flowing hair and beard, bandanas and hats. One day Chaco looked at me with one eye somewhere else and stated, ”if you stare at a cloud long enough it will disappear…” This is an anthem-theme that I use whenever I speak of Alamos.

Chacho and Cammie, his former wife, were instrumental in creating the Children’s Kite Festival held in the spring. Chacho, a bit of a mischievous child himself, loved children. He also loved to sing in his big booming voice. The last time I saw Chacho he was building a circular two-story house on the well-traveled entrance road up to the top of El Mirador. The site doesn’t seem like it would be conducive for privacy during park visiting hours but, my oh my, what a magnificent awe-inspiring view! …

98… Returning to El Pedregal’s ever-present spirit… second of two parts…

Here is a place to come together and be a warm late afternoon dream.

Liliana Carosso, on the right, and Ginny Brown, along with an unidentified woman in the middle, enjoy a natural moment. Lilliana is a prominent Alamos real estate agent. Here, one is in another world. Time loses importance and nature, and a couple of beers, encourages relaxed deep breathing.

Kit Nuzum returns to Alamos…

From dirt and straw and other natural elements a large studio is born

Elizabeth’s son, Kit, returned from one of his many global travels and took over the task of finishing the straw-bale studio. He also managed the digging of a well at the spot chosen by a water dowser. A solar pump was installed and irrigation began with water from beneath El Pedregal”s surface. Elizabeth purchased indigenous and rare trees and plants. And as the nature is for these parts some took, and some didn’t as any Alamos gardner has experienced.

Most of construction team and advisors gather around Elizabeth Nuzum.

Kit had no prior working knowledge of straw-bale construction and “just went for it” with the help of Chone, a cousin of Chacho. They poured an earthen adobe floor with the help of Steve Frielobs. The windows were made by Angel Rosas. The adobe interior walls that made the kitchen and bathroom was there but unfinished. Kit and Chone, along with several others, finished the walls and the loft decking as well as the grand stair case, designed by Alamos resident Irmine Stelzner, with wood from the old Boors monastery on the southwest corner of the Plaza. The original douglas fir came by train from Oregon in 1910. Irmine’s husband Allen Stelzner designed and made the iron latch on the front door.

Creating color pigment from nearby hills…

The finished exterior blended in with the surroundings.

Elizabeth’s straw-bale studio was originally painted with a palette of colors made from dirt in the surrounding hills. The soil that would be used to make the paint came from a spot that was along a long walk that Chacho took me on the last day of my first visit to Alamos. Chacho said it was a local custom. As we were returning to Alamos I asked Chacho if the earth was purple and he nodded yes. In this one area there was literally a rainbow of dirt. Fifteen years later, Kit and I, along with a couple of assistants and a wheel barrow, set off to find this magical place. We found it not far from El Pedregal along with shards of am old pottery. The work crew spent the morning gathering earthen colors from the area as I filmed. Later, Kit mixed the earth-toned dirts – pale green, red, blue, green, ivory, white and lavender with prickly pear and agave goo called baba. The solution sat for a week before glue was added and wiped onto the interior walls: home made paint.

Later, author Paul Molyneaux, seeking a quiet harbor from his noisy young children, finished his book The Doryman’s Reflection, a Fisherman’s Life in the serene straw-bale studio. Tony Estrada, director of the Museo de Costumbrista and artist, sculpted a centaur for Elizabeth that was placed beneath the fig tree.

The morning begins with seeing where we will be in a couple of hours.

On this summer day in 1996 I would go on a hike with Chacho, his young son Sereno, his girlfriend and Chone to the top of Tecolete Hill, seen here sun-capped. Sierra de Alamos rises up in the background. We would leave from El Pedregal at sunrise and be atop Tecolote Hill in a couple of hours. This turn out to be a day of exercise and aroma therapy in Alamos, Sonora, Mexico.

El Pedregal today…

Elizabeth sold El Pedregal to Jennifer and David MacKay in 2005. They added another 17 acres to what is now El Pedregal Nature Lodge and Retreat Center. They have also upgraded the infrastructure and added a couple of casitas. Today, they offer lodging, nature tours, sunday brunches and yoga lessons amongst many other activities that they are involved with.

Elizabeth's intent was to have both a nature preserve and artist studio

I recently enjoyed watching David Wilson’s Big Birding Day on PBS’ POV, point-of- view, series. The 2011 12-minute film features David Mckay as a birding guide for several birders intent on a big birding day. The film documents the world of competitive bird watching where one tries to see, or hear, as many bird species as one can in 24 hours. The opening scene takes place under the Pedregal’s palapa as they prepared for a day of ambitious adventure. I was struck by David’s curiosity and connection to his environment.

I had spent nine years filming wildlife on the Tulelake, Lower Klamath, Clear Lake, Upper Klamath Lake and Klamath Marsh National Wildlife Refuges along the California-Oregon border. If David had come and spent a couple of days in the field with me he would have had a wonderful time. And I am equally sure I would enjoy spending a couple of days with David Mckay in Alamos and surrounding habitats. Both of these regions are known for diversity of flora and fauna, especially numbers of bird species. There are birds that visit both Alamos and Tulelake on their yearly migrations.

Elizabeth Nuzum placed this bird bath on Pedregal’s giving ground for her small friends to use, just as she built the straw-bale studio and palapa for friends to visit with friends, even if it is only communing with one’s self, alone.

This entry was aided by notes from Elizabeth Nuzum, Kit Nuzum and Joan Winderman.

©2013 Anders Tomlinson, all rights reserved.

A solitary horse stands in the middle of Calle Comercio.

A man in the background is working on repairing a drain spout Calle Comercio. Behind the horse is the former Governor’s mansion. Why is this horse here? Because it is here. In the bigger picture the answer could be that Christopher Columbus brought the first domesticated horses on his second voyage to the new world. His expedition selected 25 horses from Andalusia including the Spanish Jennet, know for their athleticism, medium size and comfortable gait. The Spanish royal architects who laid out Centro Alamos as it is found today were also from Andalusia.

Hernandez de Cordoba in 1517 brought horses to Yucatan. Conquistador Cortez set sail with 16 horses, 500 men and 11 ships in February 1519. He landed on Mayan territory in the Yucatan peninsula and marched inland to what is now Mexico City. Today, Andalusians are bred with quarter-horses and Mexican Criolla to produce the Mexican Azteca, beautiful and durable. The horse above, living in the moment, is unaware of all of this.

The lone horse knows there is food in the trash buckets waiting for pickup.

The horse has found food scraps to rummage through. Food is food. While taking this photo I wondered if someone realized this horse was possibly not where this horse should be? And, would they go looking for the horse or is this a regular occurrence and the horse returns unassisted? A horse on its own in Centro Alamos is not a common sight but it should not be a surprise given Alamos, Sonora, Mexico’s old west nature.

Looking through the Museos' window at the old Alamos fort's front door.

All of Centro Alamos is a museum as illustrated by looking out Museo de Costumbrista de Sonora’s northern windows and seeing La Ciudadella, one of the oldest and best kept buildings on the Plaza. This was the town’s original Spanish fort. It is said that a Spanish soldier’s ghost is here protecting hidden treasure. This ghost is not alone. There are reports of ghost throughout Centro Alamos, purchase a home and a ghost, or ghosts, come along in the deal.

Small details tell stories and events that transcend time and space.

Mystery and magic are in the details seen from the street. Events are recorded in the weave and pattern of old sidewalks. Pride can be found in the well-intended performances of skilled workmen and artisans. Days of old remain with the care and respect of today’s owners and helpers. It is community mindset and municipal dictate that perpetuates past legacies.
The streets of Alamos are living history.

Maria Louisa, the first owner of La Ciudadella, died from a loose ceiling brick.

La Ciudadella went from a government fort to a private residence to two residences and then restored back to one 22 room mansion. In the early days this was a fortified mansion to securely store silver bars from the Aduana mines. Behind these doors Important business was conducted that had implications as far north as San Francisico. Inside the compound there were ramps to move the treasure along with a dungeon, deep well and secret emergency escape tunnels.

When I visited La Ciudadella in 1995, David and Jennifer McKay were living there. I sat down with David at a big old table from the soldier’s mess hall and had a glass of water and a brief conversation. Today La Ciudadella, 15 Cardenas, is owned and watched over by Margo and Richard Howell. During the winter and spring seasons La Ciudadella is often included on the Saturday house tour that gathers at 10 or 11 a.m. in the Plaza. The modest house tour fee benefits local charitable organizations, this is a long-standing tradition.

Horses can be seen on the streets and arroyos of Alamos, Sonora, Mexico.

Counter clockwise from upper left: Independence Day celebrations feature horses, music, food and beer in the arroyos. A grandfather and grandson ride together on a quiet weekday in downtown Aduana. A summer rodeo and music concert is staged in the baseball park, nothing started on time. A young man walks his horse in front of the church.

A private entrepreneur started a tourist horse drawn carriage ride around town.

And now for a little horse history in Mexico. In 200,000 B.C. Equus Mexicanus were common in North America. Starting around 136,000 B.C. they began to leave for Asia. Some 76,000 years ago Toba, one of the world’s four super volcanos, errupted in Sumatra and wiped out many species on earth. The human population, reduced to a thousand breeding pairs, barely survived. In recent times the onager, a wild ass, was common throughout North America. And then the Spaniards arrived. In the background are the steps leading up to the Monastery, formerly the Boor’s mansion. The pink building on the corner is now the Alamos hostel.

Be it for transportation or recreational activity the horse is part of Alamos.

Counter clockwise from upper left: A couple of charros, horsemen. pass Calle 5 de Febrero as they ride eastward in Arroyo La Aduana. Horses and riders gather and celebrate Independence Day in Arroyo La Aduana. A woman and child on horseback near the cemetery along Calle de Las Delicias. Man and horse rest as the Plaza fills with summer tourists.

A magnificent Arabian purebred stands in the high noon warmth of spring

Dr. Martin Dale Edwards and Zora Tyler owned Rancho Las Crucecitas, a 15 minute walk from the Plaza, when these photos were taken in 1995. They had two large houses, with two caretaker families living in one, two barns and 23 corrals. Water was provided by an abundant well and a dam behind the main house which caught and stored runoff from Mt. Alamos. They had an Arabian breeding program that used the son of Fadjur as their primary stallion. We are not sure where Arabian horses came from: northern Syria, southern Turkey, northern edge of the Fertile Crescent, Iraq, across the Sinai, Egypt, southwestern Arabia… We do know that around 1500 B.C. records begin to appear talking of the impacts these powerful “hot blooded” Arabian horses were making.

Soon the mountain behind the main ranch house will be vibrant green

These horses lived a different life than the horse on Calle Comercio that began this scene-segment-post. Life in the undisturbed country is much different than the narrow streets and homes wall to wall in downtown. These city homes do have their walled-in courts – patios where outdoor living, and privacy, is a given. But in the countryside, wide open spaces present an all encompassing freedom. Here, the sounds are of surrounding wildlife and of your own making. I believe Rancho Las Crucecitas was named for a murder that took place on the property where an old woman is buried. The herd of Arabian horses would die years later at Las Crucecitas from bad food or disease or? Something had gone terribly wrong.

Las Crucecitas’ 175 acres was purchased from Zora by Sharon Bernard and renamed Estancia Crysalis. Frank Bernard, her father, had owned a 1200 acre ranch that was three miles northwest of Alamos and might have been named Estancia Crysalis. He was a hotelman and a former Spanish Consul to Vancouver. After he sold the ranch its name was changed to Rancho El Palomar. Frank, and his second wife, Atie, then purchased Calle Comercio 8, the Bishop’s mansion in Alamos Centro. I met briefly with Frank in 1993 and he told me that I had brought a talented crew to film Alamos over the Christmas holidays. Horse spirits and ghosts are everywhere.

©2013, Anders Tomlinson, all rights reserved

Carmen Portillo at work in her La Colonia de Uvalama studio-home.

Carmen Portillo, matriarch of her Uvalama pottery family, died in 2004. She had been making pots since she was 12. Her grandaughter, Carmen Tomasa Ayala, continues the traditional craft, selling her own creations from the studio and at Uvalama Pottery in Alamos on Calle Obregon and Guerro near La Casa de los Tesoros. Years of taking clumps of clay and creating shape and function has it rewards. Artists know when they have got it right, and this moment of recognition and acceptance, priceless, warms the soul and perpetuates the process. Carmen Portillo had this moment, handfuls of times every day, for each day, each year, each decade and each generation of her life as a potter. And she was one with all those from the past who took clay in their hands and formed balanced objects for reflection and service.

Carmen's pottery is the product of water, earth, fire and handed down traditions

The car ride to Carmen’s house, a couple of miles west of Alamos and south a mile off the highway, in La Colonia de Uvalama was a drive back to another era. The Uvalama turnoff, as I am consulting with a Google satellite map, may be Arroyo Encanto. La Colonia de Uvalama was a small community with a house here, a house there, a primary school, countryside and a road that was a wash. When we arrived at her house a younger woman came to greet us. She went back into the house and Carmen, along with several family members, appeared moments later as we all converged at the work table in the front yard.

How many years, and pots, had Carmen worked-created at this table?

The clay Carmen uses is this land, Uvalama clay, these potters live at the source of their material. There is no need for electricity. The clay is hand coiled and shaped. It is then fired for nine hours in a wood oven that can reach 1000 degrees C. So simple. So universal. So true.
Prayers of labor, meditations of perfection: each finished pot joins a long procession of pots as the skills, desire and discipline are passed from one generation to another. It is the Mexico way. It is the human way.

This is a Portillo family portrait from the new Alamos slide scanning effort

One of the reasons I am writing this journal is to identify what slides will be in the next batch of scanned images, and what stories, of the thousand of stories and photos, will need further illumination and illustration. In this spirit, today, I will look for a couple of family portraits of those who posed for my camera on this day in Uvalama. And above is one of these newly processed images. This is a good example of the Journal being a work towards an end.

©2013 Anders Tomlinson, all rights reserved

A rock blockade warns, do not continue on, there is road work ahead.

This is a cobblestone section of the old El Camino Real headed west out of Centro Alamos and then turning northwards. The airport runway is to the left and an open field is on the right. It would be interesting to learn when this important Spanish highway to the Californias went from dirt to cobble. Another time, another way exemplifies a grand human tradition of using materials at hand, and experienced intuitiveness, to create function and design.

They are out early on the road to San Bernardo near the airport terminal.

This is a special crew, a few men selected to continue road building and repair customs that go back centuries. These men spend days, weeks, months and years digging rocks up and placing rocks down. My friend Chacho’s father can be seen with a hat, or wrap, under a hat.

Rock, dirt, hand-tools, hard labor and minds that enjoys solving puzzles.

This is an ultimate jig saw puzzle that when finished reveals no image or icon. Pieces, rocks, go where they fit, or are compatible, for a variety of reasons known only to those who position the rocks. I didn’t see any overweight men on this work detail, nor back-braces. It is hand labor: pick axes, shovels, wheel barrels, dirt, boulders and heavy lifting. There are percussive rhythms that come with their tools in repetitive action and layered human harmonies from their melodic conversation, singing and laughter.

Two men with hats and a wagon load of dirt at work in the campo.

It is summer and dirt roads are quickly damaged by monsoon flash floods.. The hot sun and humidity is unavoidable but rural road repair goes – on fill the hole with dirt. Is it a special dirt or blend of dirts or…? The road looks like it is a good distance to the southeast of Alamos. I was probably returning from the Cuchujaqui River and asked the driver to stop so I could get out and take this photo.

A large crew is busy digging a trench on a road going up Guadalupe Hill.

Municipal projects employ workers. Digging a trench by hand employs more workers than bringing on-site a fossil-fueled mechanical trencher. Employment grows with inefficiency and decreases with labor-saving-payroll-cutting devices. Alamos, like the all the world, needs job. Work crews are digging on Calle Maria Felix, a street that climbs a short distance up Guadalupe hill before coming to a stop at the front door of a cliff-backed house. This is as close to being a cul-de-sac as any road in Alamos. Calle Galeana, to the west, is in the background.

©2013 Anders Tomlinson, all rights reserved.

Martin Rosas at work at his families' Carpenteria Rosas.

Martin Servando Rosas was a busy man on a mission. He taught carpentry at the elementary- junior high school. He managed the well-laid-out Carpenteria Rosas, off of Calle Galeana, where his brothers Germain and Carlos worked. Martin was involved with the “Hands across the Border” program which took 20 to 40 kids north for two to four days and a Discovery tour program that involved ten adults at a time. He was running a business, hand crafting wood and sharing his experience-skills with the next generations. Martin expressed his faith in Mexico’s future through his strong belief of the necessary good community service provided. As I was leaving Carpenteria Rosas I turned back and saw Martin focused on a project at hand, there was a production schedule to be met.

To have a wood door built and carved by Ramon Figueroa was a big deal.

Ramon Nicholas Figueroa Castro was one of the most respected artists-craftsmen in Alamos. Members of the North American community spoke of him in hushed tones reserved for masters and maestros. Any visitor that asked about local creative talent would learn about Ramon and his growing reputation outside of Alamos. Many locals recognized a Ramon carved door as a collectable piece of art, hard to come by for a variety of reasons: he works slow, he is busy with a growing client waiting list, needed materials were hard to find, he is expensive because of his rising profile and, or… If one managed to purchase a Ramon it became the opening to countless conversations.

The Ramon I met was quiet spoken with a soft smile and simple gestures. It seemed he did what he did because it was what he did, there was a simplicity to his movement. Everything else surrounding his work was what other people did because it was what they did. Ramon hoped they would pay him what they had agreed to pay him and he would be left to his work, after-all, it is what he does.

Ramon together with his wood working brothers at their shop.

The brothers Figueroa all worked with wood on their family property on Calle de las Delicias.
Manuel, Emir Yonolan, Wilson, Paul, David and Ramon, not in the other of the above photo, shared a sprawling work space both open air and under roof. There were few walls: nature came in and their wood creations went out. Trees provided shade for craftsmen making tables, chairs, windows, doors… On this day Ramon was finishing a beautiful bureau. Its elegant turnings and graceful details stood out in sharp contrast to the dirt floor.

Art and music is a family thing in Alamos. Many of those around the Figueroa brothers probably will work in wood themselves. The creative skills are past down from father to son, mother to daughter, uncles and aunts to nephews and nieces. As an example, the Quartet de Alamos performed at Casa de los Tesoros for as long as I had known Alamos. On my last visit the bass player’s son was playing bass for Estudiantina de Alamos. I could imagine the son replacing his father in the Quartet, or playing in his own band, someday, somewhere in Alamos or…

Margo Findlay with her art exhibited in her home - gallery.

This is what one was greeted to as they entered Margo’s home from the street. The space was her work, her moments. Here, Margo had all she needed. The expansive walls and high ceilings of Alamos provide wonderful studio – gallery space for artists.

Far removed from the outside the artist goes inside..

Margo Findlay was born in Lewiston, Montana, 1906, and spent her childhood on cowboy ranches in the American old west. At the age of 17 she started to illustrate children books and then across a life that lasted 104 years she traveled, danced, and did what she what she did. After knocking on her door and coming in for a brief visit, and these photographs, I understood her way was not to talk about art, it was to do.

She is in control, she paints her world, her imagination, her colors...

I could not find much written about Margo Findlay. In one piece she was described as “expressionist artist”. She came to Alamos in 1964 with her artist husband, Harold Findlay. She never left. She is buried in Alamos, she is part of Alamos. Think of all the hours she spent painting, alone in her thoughts and technique. The artistic life requires self-discipline. A drive to create-make-reflect-share-react. An artistic life is one of being the art. Margo.

Here is the office, workspace, and kingdom of a productive artist.

James Fenimore Wilson escaped from the New York art scene to spend six months in Alamos, Sonora, Mexico. The year was 1990 and he felt a need to recharge his creative powers. Here he found another life. He met his future wife Lourdes, born and raised in nearby Navajoa, at the Plaza while she was visiting Alamos. They had two children and left Alamos in 2000 for Jim’s college teaching – painting position in Missouri.

Alamos became a part of Jim and Jim became a part of Alamos.

When I visited with Jim during the 90’s he was the most visible of the town’s working artists. His work was seen in homes throughout Alamos. His portraits became integral to the families that commissioned them. Jim’s extensive art background allowed him to talk with in-depth knowledge of art. Over the hundreds of years, Alamos has given refuge and wings to the creative spirit. It is as much a part of the landscape as the mountain.

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©2013 Anders Tomlinson, all rights reserved.