There is something about the paths of Mexico. In the mountains, through gullies, along streams. There are too many places for ambush, which is the word that comes closest to the feeling I have when on such a trail. As if something is about to happen that is so old, so hungry, so innocent, so incomprehensible that it seems dangerous. A man will appear with a hoe on his shoulder. A child will be standing in front of me, in the dust, not knowing whether to run, or salute me, or beg for food. Hunger and time are inseparable. The man also considers asking for food, or challenging you with his machete. But he is also the guardian of the path, and of the countryside. He will give you everything he has. ~ Notes on “The Yaqui Report,” another novel I’m writing.
2 thoughts on “The Paths of Mexico”
Sterling – very rich story! I was carried along, and kept trying to see Frank. And saw you. Made me feel a lot. Excitement, sadness, grief, longing. Thank you.
Thanks for the comment, Kevin! It’s good to get some feedback from a trained therapist as well as friend. I’m also glad you liked the Biff story. I still can’t get it straight in my memory whether my father told me about bears and tugboats, or whether I made up Biff and told my own boys stories about him when we were all very young. I would still like to see Biff translated into Chinese and Arabic! Thanks for commenting!