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Meditations

 

BLUE CHAIRS

San Cristobal de las Casas, Mexico, Winter — I am wandering the worn cobblestone streets of San Cristobal, 7,000 feet high in the mountains of Chiapas.  No other travelers are around yet; it is much too early.  The locals of course have been up for hours, tending fires, harvesting and then walking miles with tomatoes, chiles, corn; selling while keeping warm under rough wool ponchos.  I walk by a house with the door open; the front room is empty but filled with color and intriguing detail.  The texture and blue of the well worn chairs becomes my focus but I want to include the bare light bulb, and the framed certificate of accomplishment... of what?... on the painted wall.  I expose just a few frames and quietly continue my morning walk, alone with my thoughts.

RACC