“A” Mountain
On that sunny day, I ventured deeper into the heart of the Barrio on the shaded side. I was mesmerized and inquisitive by the musical patterns of doors and windows built in rhythm into a continuous wall of many row housing abutting right up to the sidewalk, reflecting the original, cultural custom of the Sonora style from south of the border, and derived from a population that rooted in family tradition had long inhabited this land. Three blocks deep inside the Barrio I found the right house to rent.
The front door was blocked by a piece of plywood. Through a hole in the wall, where a window had been, I entered into a dilapidated building feeling the earthy smells of exposed mud, caressing the walls to the cold touch of soft dirt under my fingertips.
