Changing seasons.

and back to school.

Salta City, Argentina

March 4th, 2026

Plaza 9 de julio before the rain.

Dear Reader,

Monday was hot, heavy, and muggy. Then, the weather changed. Yesterday in the early afternoon, a haze of what looked like smoke swept across my vista of the San Bernardo mountain from our balcony where I was sitting. The trees trembled as the wind blew.

The temperature dropped. I got cold and went inside. A few minutes later cracks of thunder shook the skies and a torrent of rain almost as white as a sheet came down. This went on for a good forty five minutes, and then it stopped.

I had an appointment on the Plaza 9 de julio, about a twenty minute walk from my flat. I stepped outside to a cool afternoon. Suddenly it was Fall.

People had taken refuge from the storm and the plaza was pretty empty. It was also just four o’clock. Siesta - afternoon nap time when shops and businesses are closed - usually lasts till five.

There were enormous puddles in the gravelly parts of the square. I skipped around them, and made my way to the café next door to the Hotel Colonial where we used to stay in the early days before we had an apartment.

We also chose that hotel because it was the only one in the city center that accepted dogs. Ramona was still a puppy and had a couple of accidents in the hotel but the staff was always gracious and kind about it.

In fact, while I was sitting at the café the owner himself passed by my table. He stopped and we exchanged the customary kiss on the cheek. Luis is a jolly man in his fifties with a head of white hair. He collects art so the walls of the hotel are full of interesting paintings, mostly created by Argentine artists.

“How are you?”, he asked. “You’ve been gone a long time.”.

“Yes.”, I said. “And I’m going back again later this month.”.

“Ah. Well, see you around!”.

We saluted each other once more, and he left me to finish my coffee.

This week, salteño kids donned their uniforms and went back to school and to the grind of early wake ups, homework, and extra curricular activities.

The local café where I sit writing to you is full of youngish women, probably moms who are meeting for a post drop off coffee.

Flowers on the table at my café.

More to come.

Abrazos,

Mariah