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And when the wind changes its voice, our attitude changes too. We walk slower. We speak more quietly. We listen more.

Yes, there is investment. Yes, there is economic growth. But there's also a question that has been haunting me for some time: who is this real estate boom really serving?

Here in Baja California Sur , we are guardians of an ocean that will reveal its richness to us only if we speak to it with respect, knowledge, and love

Today, as the city seemed to melt, I thought: this heat isn't punishment. It's a reminder. That we're here. That we still feel.

And still, it leaves something behind. It doesn’t go without a trace. It changes the shape of branches, the order of things, the texture of the afternoon.

So, if you walked alone a few weeks ago, this weekend I invite you to walk among people

There’s a kind of silence that only happens when the wind barely touches the water’s surface.

Some days, Baja California Sur folds into itself—as if the peninsula were breathing slowly, like a sea creature drifting under the sun, with no intention of arriving anywhere. Today was one of those days.

And maybe that’s a kind of resistance too: to keep watching, to keep listening to what Baja California Sur’s silence has to say.

But it wasn’t just any wind—it carried the salt of the Gulf, the murmur of a restless sea, and the silent message that hurricane season has begun

The state security pact is not only a government commitment; it's also a call for shared responsibility: taking care of our streets, our beaches, our common spaces