Hurts to understand the world is an unforgiving place. Lies are raw and lay on sidewalks moaning while allegations fly. Defend yourself.

Circumnavigate. A reason for flowers and colors. A rain bowl set out in front of the tortillería. And rambunctious drops careening from metal laminate roofs down bare plaster walls and puddling at the concrete base. Children arrived seeking a way to dry. Little ones had run the length of the town screaming shouting. Always unconscious to the fright of wetness. They entertained women stealing away their drying laundry from the uproaching torment. Created new patterns and explored mud untouched by human feet. These were explorers and their rhythms had been written generations before by their ancestors. Conquerors and conquerered all of us. We play each day anew. Placing pins on a neon map and carving lines on unbespoiled land.