Pilgrimage to Iztaccíhuatl:
Long before foreign feet ever touched these lands, Iztaccíhuatl stood as a silent sentinel, her snow-crowned peaks watching over the valleys below like a mother over her children. She was not merely a mountain, but a living presence—an ancient protector whispered into being by Divine breath itself.
The original peoples who lived near her revered her spirit and recognized her connection to the sacred forces of life. She was—and remains—deeply entwined with Chalchiuhtlicue, goddess of the waters that give and sustain life. In time, her sacred image was syncretized with the Virgin of Lightning, and even later with La Malinche, yet the essence has never changed. She is the guardian of cycles, of fertility, of sky and storm—a threshold between earth and heavens. On her slopes, high and remote, rituals were once offered in prayerful silence and ecstatic song—gifts of flowers, jade, feathers, and food placed with devotion to call forth rain and abundance, and to honor the elemental spirits that walk beside us.
Today, this lineage continues.
Each Spring and Fall, Don David Wiley leads a group of graniceros—weather workers—up her sacred spine, to a special site near the sky. This place was revealed decades ago by his beloved teacher, Don Lucio Campos Elizalde, a renowned Mexican shaman and guardian of ancestral knowledge. Don David met Don Lucio in Nepopualco, Morelos, in 1996, a moment that marked the unfolding of a prophecy—Divine reaching toward the modern world through a path of fire and cloud. It was then that Don David was initiated as a granicero, tiempero or quiapaquiz in Nahuatl, and the transmission of sacred weather knowledge began—heart to heart, breath to breath.
Santa Bárbara, patroness of storms and protector of those who walk between worlds, once revealed while Don Lucio lay in a coma for three years that Nahua granicero souls would reincarnate in modern times and come from the four corners of the Earth. And they have. Year after year, they return—no matter the distance, no matter the thunder—to fulfill their mandas, sacred vows etched not in ink, but in soul.
La Virgen del Rayo
In 2004, the group erected a modern statue of the Virgin of the Lightning to mark the site—not as a monument, but as a living altar. They hoped that this contemporary expression would shield the sacred place from the unknowing tread of hikers who might not understand the weight of older, pre-Hispanic imagery. And so, each season, they climb. They dress the Virgin in beautiful flowers and offerings, they sing, they pray, they eat together under the watchful eyes of the weather beings. Then they return to the sacred valley of Tepoztlán, carrying with them the mountain’s breath and blessings.
This is not a ceremony of the past. It is a living promise—an echo of Divine calling those who remember to step forward. Rain or lightning, heat or hail, they come. Not out of obligation, but out of love, service, and the unwavering knowing that this is what it means to be in relationship with the forces that sustain life.
And when they descend from Iztaccíhuatl’s heights, each granicero carries back not only offerings fulfilled, but gifts received—protection, strength, and the memory of standing face to face with the sacred. They bring these blessings to distant lands, where they work quietly to help restore a lost balance, to awaken hearts, and to invite the world once again into right relationship with nature, with the unseen, and with the ever-present grace of Divine.
Iztaccíhuatl Volcano
If something in your heart stirs as you read about this sacred pilgrimage—if you feel a quiet knowing, a gentle pull from the mountain, or a sense that you are meant to be in relationship with the forces that give and sustain life—you are warmly invited to step forward.
Each journey to Iztaccíhuatl is part of a larger ceremonial cycle—a sacred act of love, service, and devotion. The walk up the volcano is just one of the many ritual responsibilities that must be fulfilled during the Fall and Spring ceremonies of Weather Work. It is not a trek, nor a symbolic gesture, but a living tradition—an offering made in prayer and gratitude to the weather beings, the ancestors, and Divine.
Some people come simply to accompany the offerings at Iztaccíhuatl as respectful guests. Others may sense a deeper calling stirring within them—an ancestral echo, a tug at the soul. If this is the case for you, there is a path of inquiry to follow, to discern whether you are being called to serve as a granicero—a Weather Worker—in the tradition guided by Don David Wiley.
Whether you are drawn to witness, support, or explore a potential commitment, you are welcome.
To attend or learn more, please write to:
📧 workingwithweather@keepsthefire.org
You will be contacted by the Chief of the Granicero Group, who will guide you through what is needed to participate and coordinate any necessary logistics.
This path is not reserved for the few, but open to those who are willing to listen, to remember, and to walk in right relationship with the sacred forces of nature.
We look forward to hearing from you.
