On Gratitude
I have dreamt of this. This. A four-year old boy, digging in the sand, building a castle (“for the mice”) with his dad. This. A ten-month old boy, sitting in the freshly-cut grass, picking miniature wildflowers with plump baby fingers and tickling his own nose. This. A six year-old dog, lounging in the shade of a soccer net, happily guarding the family that loves her. This. A hammock in a tree, swaying in the breeze, carrying the spirit of Mexico in its fibres. This. A barren