ABSTRACT
San Marcos de Colon, 5:30 a.m. It has been two years and a coup d´état since my last visit to the mountains of southern Honduras. It is the end of the dry season. A dirty fog saturates the air. It is the smoke from the fi res. The taste of burning has not ceased for days. On our journey to the south, Jorge showed me stripped hills that not many years ago used to be cloud forests. He also showed me a beautiful canyon near Tegucigalpa with some unique species living there. He explained to me that they will disappear in the upcoming years, as the area will be soon urbanized. At the same time, I have been able to see for myself how this city is increasing its ecological vulnerability: Last year’s rains have wiped out bridges and houses in areas of the city where such things had never happened before. I have the anguished feeling of seeing how we are advancing irreversibly toward an ecological disaster.
