This afternoon, as the sun was setting, the road took us into it's most beautiful part yet. As we drove higher into the Arizona heights we both noticed a lone memorial standing in the midst of the orange landscape. It was just a small marker really - a tiny white cross with the name, VITO, written down the vertical piece of wood and the date1919-31/12/96 going across. It looked well tended, with flowers, some carefully placed beer cans, and what looked like a white cap at it's base. We had taken some Rosemary seeds with us and, as this is for rememberence, it seemed the right thing to plant there. As I watered the seeds it became more apparent that Vito was actually buried at this spot, as opposed to this simply being a marker for him. And that felt somewhat strange...

A little further down the road was the tiny town of Oatman, just a few houses and a couple of bars. We wondered if this was Vito's town. If I lived there I'd definately want to be buried looking out on that view.

Traces of existence, evidence, the past and the future and where on this road do they meet?