ROAD TO PANUCO

By Lisa Lankins

There is a beautiful little mining town just northwest of Copala. It is charming, quaint, and picturesque. Pánuco is hidden in a bowl of mountain peaks. The cobblestone streets winding through the tile roofed casitas beg you to walk by foot, as the few cars on the street look completely out of place in this town that time forgot. There is a town square, surrounded by iron benches all painted white and a beautiful little gazebo. The church with its three bells and stark white walls is enveloped by white doves searching for a roost. There is a fine dirt dust, almost like talc, covering everything, and giving the bright painted buildings a muted tone. It seems a ghost town at first and the deep quiet almost deafening. We didn’t find a restaurant, so we were happy we brought a picnic lunch. As our ears got used to the quiet we began to tune into noises not usually heard in a busier town, conversations inside houses, birds in the distance, the wind in the trees, and an occasional car winding into town; every rock in the road audible. What a feast for the eyes and ears. I wanted to have my drawing board and paint with me, and plan that for our next trip. But, the road to Pánuco is no peach. We tried