Signs

There are are sometimes barely discernible signs of the ebb and flow of life in Mexico City. Window washers are one of them. One of the many stereotypes attaching to this place is that it's a tropical city, with balmy temperatures, palm trees and sunset margaritas. The latter is the closest to being true. There are only two seasons here - wet and dry, and neither is remotely tropical. As we get near to the end of the dry season, window washers emerge and glide down the facades of Mexico City buildings like remoras on a school of sharks. You usually only know they're above you as you walk the street because of the dark drops of water on the parched sidewalk. Safety cones and warning tape are rarities around here. Walking out of my building last week, I heard the patter of rain drops and saw a few hitting the sidewalk to my left. Looking up, I saw the window washer at work and thought, rain - real rain - can't be far off. That night, and all the next day, it did.

The Zone System at Work

Sometimes getting out of bed in the morning can fill one with inspiration and verve. Then there's a day like today. Looking out the window brought a reminder that yes, Mexico City is one of the most pollution-wracked places on the planet. That the days when you can see the volcanos 80 miles south are likely outnumbered by the days you struggle to see the castle in the park less than 800 meters away. Call it "An Inconvenient View."

Still, reading through Ansel Adams' autobiography and reviewing some of his incredible work got me thinking about the zone system of tonal values and despite the health-threatening haze, I was inspired once again to pick up the camera and record what I was seeing. From the beauty of the Colima countryside, to the curse of urban life. In just two blog posts.