El Rancho

El rancho, 2023.

It was our daughter’s first trip out of the country. The thick, hot air pooled in the Misantla River Valley giving Esme her first diaper rash. Ruby’s uncle generously cranked his pickup’s air conditioner to make the drive from Misantla’s city center to his ranch in the mountains more enjoyable.

Women and children got seats in the cab, so I hopped into the bed with Ruby’s 11 year-old cousin. We shared our enthusiasm with each other through my earnest attempts at speaking Spanish. Smiles and gestures made up for the rest.

I am notorious for getting motion sick. My Leica bounced off my chest while I clung to the railing of the truck bed. Narrow streets, pedestrians, and fellow drivers created the illusion of stop-and-go traffic. Both my smile and enthusiasm faded quickly. Once we hit the dirt road, I wrapped the camera strap around my wrist and began making images. Zone focusing allowed me to take advantage of the warm light of the afternoon sun.

Primo, 2023.

Caballo, 2023.

Tio’s rancho is nothing like what you imagine if you’re from the American West. Flat plains are replaced by steep mountains. Metal rail fences are replaced by their simple barbed-wire cousins. There is only one small structure on the property— and you wouldn’t call it a barn.

Tio counted his cattle while we took in the view. He gave us a tour of his garden and helped us pick fresh limes. I attempted to make compelling images while staying present with our family. Most photographers will know the impossibility of this task… yet, we still try to do it. As the family loaded back into the truck, I made one final image. La vaca.

La vaca, 2023.