Saint Michael’s Dawn: A Battle of Light in San Miguel de Allende

By Aundria McMillan Humphrey

At precisely 4:00 a.m. on October 4^th, when most small cities are asleep, San Miguel de Allende erupts. Church bells toll from the tower of La Parroquia de San Miguel Arcángel, fireworks burst into the heavens, and the cobblestone streets tremble beneath the weight of centuries-old traditions. This is La Alborada—the Dawn—a luminous offering to Saint Michael the Archangel, patron of the city and celestial warrior who once cast Lucifer from paradise.

September 29^th is actually the Feast Day of Saint Michael the Archangel, and the Alborada is always the weekend after September 29^th.  The festival blends Catholic tradition with the indigenous calendar, and the timing—just after the 29^th—is meant to extend the celebration into the weekend so the whole community can join in. It’s not just a party; it’s a spiritual and cultural crescendo that lights up the heart of the city.

This is no quiet homage. It’s a spiritual riot. A holy hysteria. A theatrical clash between good and evil played out in pyrotechnics, dance, and devotion.

The night before, the city begins to stir. From the neighborhoods of Valle del Maíz, La Aurora, and La Estación, processions form. Enormous stars made of Chinese paper—some with six, eight, even twelve points—float above the crowd, glowing with candles that once lit the way before electricity. These stars evoke the Virgen de la Luz, a symbol of divine guidance and ancestral reverence.

Then comes the Xúchiles. Towering floral offerings woven from cactus leaves and marigolds, they are carried on the shoulders of indigenous communities. The name xúchil comes from the Nahuatl word for flower, and these structures—some reaching almost 40 feet high—are tributes to Saint Michael.  They are not mere decorations; they are sacred sculptures of memory and sacrifice.

As the stars and xúchiles arrive at the Jardin, San Miguel De Allende’s main square, dancers flood the streets. Concheros, Voladores de Papantla, Mojigangas, and other traditional groups stomp, spin, and leap in a frenzy of feathers, lamé, and devotion. Each group is led by elders representing ancient Aztec deities, followed by dancers cracking whips to symbolize the devil’s torment.  And then—BOOM. The first firework explodes. The battle begins.

Saint Michael and his troops, stationed at the Parroquia, face off against Satan’s minions across the Jardín.  Fireworks volley back and forth like divine artillery for over an hour. Evidence of a raging battle can be heard for miles around. The crowd gasps, cheers, and ducks for cover. It’s a spectacle of chaos and catharsis, a reenactment of the eternal struggle between light and shadow… good and evil.

The Alborada is not an ancient tradition.  It began in the 1920s, when factory workers from La Aurora revived the legend as a way to honor their patron saint. They brought music, dance, and offerings—transforming a religious ritual into a community-wide celebration of identity and resilience.

Today, La Alborada is more than a loud and wild festival. It’s a spiritual exorcism. A communal heartbeat. It is a reminder that faith isn’t always quiet—it can be loud, messy, and gloriously alive.

As dawn breaks and the final fireworks fade, the crowd sings Las Mañanitas (The Morning Prayers) to Saint Michael. The city exhales. The battle is won.

But the celebration continues for days—processions, masses, confirmations, and the grand entrance of the xúchiles. Saint Michael’s statue tours the city, visiting churches and receiving offerings from every corner of San Miguel.

In this sacred hysteria, the lines between past and present, pagan and Catholic, myth and memory blur. And maybe that’s the point. La Alborada isn’t just a tribute to a saint. It’s a declaration: that good still rises, that light still fights, and that in San Miguel de Allende, the dawn comes dressed for battle every year the first weekend after September 29^th.

Dances continue all around the town during daylight hours too, throughout the entire festival.

Aundria McMillan Humphrey, slowdowngranny.com & founder, Kickbutt Ageless Living.