Riding in the back of his truck the wind, oh the wind it was a so gentle on our faces and hair, it gently caressed our faces with the soft gentle hands that it has. When we did go out it would be in the back of my grandfather’s truck, his truck that he named La Chocolata because of the soft rich tone of chocolate that she has. On those trips we took, those bumpy trips we took, the trips that filled us with energy. With what felt like never ending joy. With each and every bump we hit, it just filled use with even more excitement and happiness to be out. The beautiful scenery that would appear the days that we went out. The clouds they were so fluffy I was going to die. The sky changing colors like if he was changing moods, from a gold happy glow to a peaceful blue shade that calms you down. The scenery taking my breath every mile she marked. The smell of fresh air as it passed by our faces. Not like the air you smell here in America, no Mexico’s air is very different it is thinner and lighter. All the pictures I took make me feel like I’m still there.