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I was born in Arizona. My granddad was a prospector when he wasn't working at the air force base as a mechanic to make money. The Sonoran desert was not a good place to walk--stickers everywhere. Looking down you would see ants, sand rubies and fallen cactus. The best way to look was up. There were the mountain ranges on all side and the sky that you could see for miles and miles. There would be thunderstorms a few miles away and a fresh smell in the air. At night the stars filled the sky with bright little pinpricks.
My grandmother had two little lap chihuahuas and a grove of citrus trees. Some of the trees were volunteers--mestizo trees, part orange, part lemon, part grapefruit. She had a big Seville orange tree. The fragance of lemon flowers and the sound of mourning doves at 4am...
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