Saturday, February 15, 2014
The Ghost's Of Mazatlan~
I can still hear the sounds of the instruments played by a mariachi band playing out on the beach just before sunset, albeit a little off key at times, but, festive nonetheless-just behind the rope that divides the resort from the open beach which goes for miles either direction.
There's simply so much in the folds of my recent memory that need be recorded before it slowly fades, especially the dramatic notions that moved me along with the simple aspects I found along the way. Like an old door in the city of Mazatlan on a tour one day. Such sights of simple doors like this one speaks to me with whispering times of long ago-quiet now with the warm afternoon breeze through a city with many interesting and, sometimes unpleasant scents.
To my writing friends with love.