Luckily, I don’t have to pick only one photograph, so I’ll settle for two.
Above a wall and door in Trinidad, Cuba: vibrant, full of soul and texture, a bit worn out and still useful and working hard.
Below, Liz and our driver Alejandro (who quickly became a friend) stand in the roots of a Ceiba tree, probably 500 years old, growing on an old sugar cane plantation. Planted by enslaved Africans whose pain still haunts the place where they made sugar to sweeten the tea of people far away. A special tree that served as a holy place, an alter, for people searching for their god in a place and time where it is inconceivable to believe any existed.