The night of November the 2nd is a night of culture and tradition, of insight and reflection, of duel and acceptance, is a night of celebration,  is the night of the Day of the Dead.

This November the 2nd was celebrated the first nautical parade in Los Cabos for the Day of the Dead. This was accompanied by an arrangement of altars across the marina area.

Hundreds of people came together in expectation, walking side by side towards the distant light of the boats, dancing, teasing us with what was yet to come. And so we waited, and so people kept arriving, putting themselves as close to the edge as possible, as the wait grew longer and longer the pile of people kept growing, like a slow pour, like early snowflakes, one by one, pushing themselves to keep walking, going deep into the mass, and losing themselves in the homogeneous face of a crowd.

Confused faces for a delayed start began to turn impatient stares, disturbing the involuntary synchronization of the collective mind. All eager for the show to start. All demanding to see the lights out close.

And then the sky exploded. Curling beams of light rose from the water filling the sky with color and the air with silence; the constant murmur of the impatient crowd shut down in a glimpse, in a gasp, we were all quiet, listening to the sky turn into flames.

Slowly, while our sights were lost in the shining night sky, like a shy kid not wanting to claim our attention, the first boat arrived. A line of mellow lights emerged from the darkness of the deep night. Floating over a dark canvas they moved. And we all stared. The wait was finally over.

As the boats passed by, the trance of the lights and magic started to fade away, we once more looked to the many faces of the crowd, and slowly walked. A second parade took place while the first one hadn’t even finished. The parade of the spectator, of souls in need of celebration, of friends contemplating a young and luminous night.