The vast, unpopulated stretches of highway in Baja California Sud are dotted with roadside crosses marking the spots of many fatal traffic accidents. These shrines allowed me to decipher and organize the desert landscape, and at the same time reminded me that it remains mostly wild and indomitable. Perhaps these signs of grief are the most sincere confession of our place in this desolate but compelling space: humble crosses adorned with plastic flowers and a car’s broken taillights, saying that we were only passing through, and died on the way.
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