Wide, open spaces

zone

IF YOU STEP from our house out to the street, hang a right, walk about five blocks and look sharply over your left shoulder, this is what you’ll see.

Mountains, some humble homes, trees, wide open spaces and a railroad track that heads to the Pacific coast and the commercial shipping hub at Lázaro Cárdenas.

I took the shot during a 30-minute exercise walk I made yesterday morning with my child bride and our closest nephew, the one I once called the Little Vaquero, the Little Cowboy, but he’s bigger now and no cowboy. He’s a soccer goalie and nearly 15.

He had spent the night with us, which he does every now and then, but not nearly so often as he did when he was much younger.

I’m not sure why this scene caught my eye. Maybe it’s the new year, and this wide-open space represents possibilities to me. To me, a new year is like a clean slate.

And then we walked  home and ate waffles.

A dog named Guts

Guts
This is Guts.

HE’S A GENTLEMAN, a scholar, a football player and a pooch. He goes by Guts.

He’s a gentleman because he doesn’t jump up on your leg. When he is outside my sister-in-law’s business, he only goes to the open entrance, no farther. He stops there and waits, one paw on the stoop.

He’s a scholar because he’s clearly intelligent, which is also why he’s a gentleman. Perhaps his formal schooling is deficient, making him not technically a scholar, but if you want smart, then Guts is your guy.

He’s a football player. Actually, it’s soccer because he lives in Mexico, but it’s not called soccer but football or rather futbol  in Spanish. Guts plays second fiddle on a two-man team.

The star player is my nephew who is 11. The two play on the sidewalk late in the evenings after the business has closed for the night. Guts is really into the game, playing with his paws, not technically kosher, of course.

Guts is a street fellow and needs a bath. You may wonder where he got the name of Guts. The daughter of one of my sister-in-law’s employees named him that. Actually, his name is Tripas, a Spanish word that means, well, Guts. It also means Intestines, but I favor Guts, don’t you?

It has more style.

Guts has guts because it requires guts to live on the street in Mexico and remain somewhat clean, especially when in your heart you’re a gentleman, a scholar and a football player.

Guts, a little guy, is also an optimist with a sunny disposition. I like him.