Located in Vallecito in the municipality of Casas Grandes, Chihuahua, Forty Houses is believed to be the southernmost site related to the period of Mogollon influence. The site consists of a series of cliff dwellings built in natural caves in the cliffs of Huapoca Canyon. The best known is the Cueva de las Ventanas(Cave of the Windows). Early Spanish explorers named the site Cuarenta Casas (forty houses) based on their speculation of the total number of structures. The area consists of five main cave communities: Cueva del Puente, Cueva de la Serpiente, Nido del Aguila and Cueva Grande.
la plaza del mercado had always seemed like a place exempt from the passage of time. no one really changed, no one really aged, no one ever left. the vegetables are always fresh.
el piragüero makes piragüas for everyone who asks for one, even if he can’t see them, and even if the icy treats keep melting in a pile on the ground.
the zip-line at toro verde looked cool when you wanted to try it, but by the time you make it to the end, you can’t get the secrets the wind whispered into your ear out of your mind.
the bioluminescent bay was boasted to be one of the best ways to have fun at night. the tiny creatures that lit up the more you moved in the water made you smile, but when you got back on the boat and they still lit up with no one in the water, your smile faded.
the stray horses of vieques are something that is never questioned, or addressed. and you don’t question it either when you see four of them, with their skeletal owners feeding them from their palms.
you were told that the taíno god juracán was a silly legend made up by the indigenous peoples, now long gone. if that’s so, why are the storm winds yelling at you by name to open your door?
you always assumed the window cave, cueva ventana, was just a way to see a picturesque view from its massive opening. you didn’t account for it being a window into whatever this is. the you on the field is covered in blood and seems to be screaming at the you in the cave.
plaza las americas, the center of everything! you’ve been driving for two minutes. you pass plaza las americas. you’ve been driving for three hours. you pass by plaza las americas. you have not turned once. you keep passing plaza las americas.
el tren urbano closes at 11:15pm but if you stick around long enough, you can see the dark cars screeching by, some of them charred and some of them shining. the wings and flames keep you from looking away, the screeches seem to not be metallic.
el yunque has always been a place of otherworldly speculation. aliens are blamed for the phenomenons, but it works to their advantage. no one suspects them to come from inside the mountain.
the old men who drink their cortadito in the corner diner never seem to stop laughing and never seem to leave. you pass by once and notice there are no doors. it’s almost funny how fast you forget about the diner on the corner, after that.
there has never been a permanent population on isla mona, which is more of a relief than a concern.
your abuelita asks you to come to church with her. you oblige but it’s not your favorite place in the world. there’s always so many entrails on the priest’s altar.
you’ve never seen culebra on a map. it’s always so hard to pinpoint it, even for the ferry captains. the sea snake is so fickle with its movements.
the caves of camuy are known for having high ceilings but the one time you visited, instead of looking up, you looked down, over the rail. you’d never thought of darkness as an entity until that day.