This photo is of my father. I hold it in my hands, a 4-inch by 4-inch Kodak memory of my childhood. The photograph was taken in late autumn, unframed and crisp as the day it was printed. I keep it tacked to the wall in my cluttered office to remind me where I come from and where I will return. I am not of this desert. I was not born among the cactus, nor do I believe I will die...
