An excerpt from ‘Santa Cruz is in the Heart Vol. II’
In the spring when the willows and chickens grew fat again and the plum trees blossomed pink and white in the Chinatown yards near the river, the old man with the scruffy beard and tobacco breath sat back in the quiet splendor of the warm April sun and watched with great delight the group of young children playing at his feet.
Far off in the distance, he could hear the children’s grandmother, Gue Shee Lee, turning over the soil of her garden, and the San Lorenzo River tumbling gently through the town. He could smell the fish drying on the porches and the herbs from the kitchens and the faint, sweet wisps of Chinese tobacco in the air. The world had changed many times in his life he thought, as he watched the scene unfolding before him, and it would change many times more before he was gone.