Osprey - 1-12-2006 at 09:18 AM
Warning Label
When I saw it, realized what had got me, what was causing me such incredible pain, I could not believe my eyes. The plant, called mala mujer, Bad
Woman, would look at home in the garden or on the patio. My calf barely brushed it as I walked through the desert near my home. Mala mujer. Perhaps
this whole place should carry such a warning label. A warning and a new name. Maybe this part of Mexico could be called mujer mysteriosa, Mysterious
Woman; a thing that has indescribable beauty while sometimes meting out profound pain and heartbreak.
I have a sense of the place that embraces not just the spiky land but both seas, the sky above, the immeasurable history. A cruel place indeed for
early travelers ? their boats dashed and ruined on the rocky reefs and shores, their feet cut and bleeding from the crippling scrapes and gouges of
dagger plants and nettles. No Cibola here ? they would gladly settle for a wet tinaja.
A woman. They might have seen her as a woman. Her moods, her give and take, are not subtle. Modern day visitors need time to learn her moods. They
are lulled into false security, feel less threatened than the adventurers, the settlers and explorers. A rogue wave snatched a family of these new
tenderfoots from the beach, a few yards from the sybarite?s pleasure palace on the shore. Killed them all. Yesterday.
She is often rough and dismissive with fawning, moonstruck pilgrims ? they run north before the chafing winds of misadventure with empty purses and
infected bowels. Many suitors will not be put off. Broken axels and bleeding hearts lie in the dust as testimony to their unrequited fidelity. She
killed all the Indians, the ones with the darkest skin. They found the place full of food they could not gather. Once they were isolated the end
came quickly for these early ones.
La Mujer still holds the power to heal, to change, to embrace. She mellows with age. Now she lets the dark skinned ones live -- she makes them
work like dogs. She allows me some latitude; I know many of her secrets and I can avoid her nags and nettles because I am no longer fooled by
deceptive hues and shapes and textures. I just have to remind myself that in Baja California nothing is what it appears to be.
When they talk about my end, how she took me down, I hope they?ll say, by whatever name they may give her, she let me go quietly into the night; full
of her beauty and passion, sated, at peace, knowing I had wooed her, held her if only for a very short while. They will say of me that my fate was
sealed when she showed me that irresistible sweet spot between serenity and danger.
Osprey
Baja Bernie - 1-12-2006 at 09:38 AM
A tip of the hat to you. Absolutely wonderful!
Bruce R Leech - 1-12-2006 at 12:08 PM
once again excellent reading. thanks Osprey
bajaandy - 1-12-2006 at 04:02 PM
Very nicely done. I love the images your tome provokes. How cool that there have been a few nicely written pieces lately. Thanks for sharing.
surfer jim - 1-12-2006 at 07:37 PM
I'm trippin' man.... far out ....woman ?....I didn't see anybody....
[Edited on 1-13-2006 by surfer jim]
Paulina - 1-12-2006 at 08:01 PM
Jorge,
Good story.
It's been awhile.
The last one you sent me was about Boston. It's my fault that I didn't reply after reading it, but soaked it in.
I'd welcome more, if you have them.
I would hope that none of us should have to worry about how she takes us when it's our turn. We should all be so lucky to be at the right spot at the
right time. There's only one right spot.
That would be my choice.
Your friend,
Paulina<*)))><
bajalera - 1-12-2006 at 10:49 PM
Another good one, Jorge!
Santiago - 1-13-2006 at 06:47 AM
Thanks Osprey.