Entries about volcanoes

Over the last few days, the nearby volcano, Popocatépetl, has been making sure everyone remembers he's not dead, or asleep, or in a coma. He's been fuming and spitting out ash and glowing at night. Yesterday ash started falling on some of the towns in the area and today some of the schools remained closed. The authorities have increased the Alert Level to Yellow Phase 3, which among other things, means that people have to be ready to evacuate if necessary.

Here are some photos of the volcano (taken from newspapers):

Now, I wonder whether Popocatépetl's stirrings have had anything to do with the earthquakes we've been having in the last month or whether it's the tremors which are waking him up? Maybe neither.

Last weekend, the wind huffed and puffed and blew away the layer of nata over the city, leaving clear skies. I decided it was worth getting up at the crack of dawn and making my way up to Santa Fe to watch the sun rise over the volcanoes Iztaccihuatl and Popocatéptel. Izta was fast asleep but Popo was only dozing half-heartedly, letting off little wisps of a yawn. I crept away silently when the sun burst over the horizon behind them, hoping they wouldn't wake up. You see, Popo is still an active volcano and he's been getting a bit restless recently.

The silhouettes of the two volcanoes, Iztaccihuatl on the left and Popocatépetl on the right. They are just 70 km (43 miles) southeast of Mexico City.

Legend has it that Iztaccihuatl was Popo's sweetheart. The silhouette looks like a woman lying down.

Popocatépetl is the second highest mountain in Mexico, at 5426 m (17802 ft) high.

Popo lets off a bit of steam and gas.

The sun comes up on the horizon behind Iztaccihuatl, which is Mexico's third highest mountain at 5220 m (17,126 ft).

Popo's almost perfect cone shape tinged orange.

To find out about the legend of these two sweethearts, read my blog post A smoking volcano of 6th June 2011.

The volcano Popocatépetl letting off some steam at sunrise

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Occasionally, we are treated to a special surprise, climatically speaking, in the Valle de México. Take last weekend, for example. Mexico City shrugged off its grey-coloured shroud of contaminación and the hemisphere above us became unusually clear. The night sky was a brilliant inky-black studded with the city's million twinkling lights and the planes coming in to land every few minutes at the airport sped like comets through a clean night sky, for once. Dawn didn't so much break as creep up over the dark mountains, pushing the blackness of the night upwards with its delicate pastel-shades. From my roof, I watched as the mountains ceased to be flat sleeping lumps in the background to take on their usual three-dimensional character. The moon, a mere crescent at the base of a silver globe, moved up and up until it disappeared when the sun burst over the horizon.

View of Mexico City at night from my roof

The endless lights of the city

Early morning moon

The soft shades of dawn

Pastel-coloured sky

Looking down towards the Centro Histórico and the Torre Latinoamericano

On Sunday, I got up early for my usual bicycle ride and caught the volcano Popocatépetl yawning in the sunrise, sending out little wisps of white breath from its mouth. Nearby, his volcanic sweetheart, Iztaccihuatl, lay motionless as the sun peeped over her silhouette trying to wake her up and sending the night's shadows scuttling away. Down below, Mexico City was still slumbering except for a few early risers braving the chilly air.

The two volcanoes, Iztaccihuatl on the left and Popocatépetl on the right

Popcatépetl at sunrise

The mountains surrounding Mexico City bathed in early morning mist

Looking towards the Centro Histórico in Mexico City at dawn

The Torre Latinoamericano in the Centro Histórico at dawn

The sun's rays on the Hotel Imperial

Palacio de Bellas Artes

Early light casting shadows on an old building

Santa Fe's skyscrapers

And then as the sun rose up and up, the hemisphere above us turned a solid blue, without a single white cloud to dilute it. It was so intense, so saturated, so blue that everything in the city seemed to be clean and bright and new. The trees and grass were doubly green, the coloured buildings turned vibrant orange and yellow, and modern skyscrapers became clean shiny mirrors reflecting back the blue.

Blue skies behind Caballito

Church tower decorated with tiles

Monumento a la Revolucion

A real treat for eveyone, and especially for my camera. Let's hope that after this performance, we get an encore really soon.

Popocatépetl... the name rolls smoothly and easily off the tongue of a Mexican. For the rest of us, it's like a mouth full of dry crackers and nothing to drink. It gets stuck somewhere between our tongue and our throat and never sounds like it should. Popopatec...Popocapet... Popo..... Let's just call it "Popo" for short, like the locals affectionately do. In Náhuatl, the ancient language of the Aztecs, the name means "Smoking Mountain".

Popocatépetl is a volcano and, with its symmetrical cone-shape, looks just like the volcano you may have drawn in your Geography class at school. What's more, it's active and lies just 55 kms from Mexico City. On one of those rare days when the nata (layer of contamination) is skimmed off the valley by the wind, you can see it standing head and shoulders above the city and in the winter, its peak looks like it's been dipped into thick white frosting. At 5500 m (17,886 ft) high, it is the second highest mountain in Mexico and even has permanent glaciers at the top.

Popocatépetl volcano (Photo: Miguel)

Mexico City and Popocatépetl behind (Photo: Alejandro Guzmán)

"Popo" has been in the news over the last few days. On Friday 3rd June, early in the morning, it began to stir and sent out a fumarola of gas, vapour and ash over 3 kms high, tinged a spectacular red and pink by the sun's rays at dawn. It was expected to start spitting out a few fragmentos incandescentes and the crater could be seen glowing that night. The newspapers reported that the area was on Yellow Alert. No-one could go within 12 kms, and those living close by were told that in the event of further ash emissions, they should stay indoors, put a cloth over their mouth and nose and not try to wash away the ash. It would solidify and block the drains. What about airplanes? They continued to fly in and out of the Valley, landing and taking off at Mexico City Airport as usual. No worry about the ash getting stuck in their engines, not like in Europe when the Icelandic volcanoes put on their show.

Spewing out ash at sunrise (Photo: CENAPRED Page)

Ash from volcano with monastery in foreground (Photo: El Universal)

Popocatépetl wakes up (Photo: El Universal)

According to an Aztec legend, Popocatépetl is a brave warrior standing watch over his sweetheart, Iztaccíhuatl ("White Woman" in Náhuatl), another volcano nearby whose name sends me rapidly into dislexia. I call her Izzy for short. She used to be covered with snow which could be seen for hundreds of kilometres around but unfortunately is now losing her white mantle due to global warming. With a bit of imagination, you can make out the silhouette of a sleeping woman in its contours. Legend says she died of a broken heart when they sent her beloved Popocatépetl off to war to certain death. He came back but found her dead and now stands watch over her body, occasionally fuming. A sort of Mexican Romeo and Juliet story.

The two volcanoes (Photo: Antonio Toliz)

Legend of the warrior and his sweetheart