The mamón de mico blooms at the Y de Broche

On the trail that climbs from the Y de Broche toward the cerro peligro, there is a tree that gives no warning: it simply appears, laden. Alejandro found it that way, without ceremony, its clusters of yellow-gold fruit pressed tight against the branches, some already showing the brown blotches that betray full ripeness. This is the mamón de mico, and April belongs to it. The fruits hang in compact bunches among large, glossy leaves, and whoever splits one open finds inside a creamy white flesh — understated, but sweet. It is not a spectacular find at first glance, but in the sanctuary these fruitings are compasses: they mark what is ripening in the forest, which sectors will see wildlife moving through in the coming days, what is worth watching. Alejandro documented it carefully, splitting one of the fruits open to reveal what lay inside. The tree remains there, heavy with fruit, at that point where the trail forks and the cerro peligro peers through the canopy.