A late winter windstorm over Mexico City:
remember, citizens of the former Aztec empire, the power of Ehécatl, the wind
god - don't forget that ancient deities were never gone - they still live among
us: they take the metro in the rush hours, they eat from our same corn - they
have survived migrations, urbanization, revolutions, brutal capitalism. They
have given us the color of our skin. They can see us, but we cannot see them -
we can only hope to catch their voices through the never ending roar of the
planes crossing the urban sky.
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