Another Kodak photo maybe was taken during 1721 shows a huge farm with all types of Mango tree around its boarders. The owner seems to be welcoming the visitors although he was not in the photo. Most likely, it was a she. A generous, welcoming female.


Never mind the owner, once Alfonzo passed the mango tress he started to walking through a wide field of strawberry, some are ready to be attacked as their blossom concurred his eyes and nose.

The farm owner built a fence out of a low-high palm trees that her horses enjoyed running freely the whole day. Alfonzo’s eyes fell on a rather small cottage at the far end of the farm. He could not wait to reach there. His steps were getting faster and wider with his heart beats getting stronger with every meter he advances. The cottage entrance faced the other side; Gosh; there is no gate. The owner must be inside; whispered Alfonzo and should I remove the wet soil on my shoes first?

He shivered, scared to death; there was nothing inside but a grave bellow a tiny marble flat stone with engraved words that reads: ‘’keep it gate-less, it is not my photo’’.


Made of Clay..

Alfonso wanted to know what is really going on. Do recognize that he is made up of a unique nature of clay and water. A soil that you did stick to for ages; teared it apart. Further, burn it with jealousy. On his shoulders rests green flames that lightened the dark era. Then, a hundred years back, you planted grey hair on his chest. Kate; do not ever dip him again into the midlife crisis that fractured the soil of your very youth.