I love how the past somehow refuses to die, and in this case, it’s a ghost sign showing through a thin wash of paint. How long ago the shop selling remedies closed, you can’t tell. It could have been last week, or a hundred years ago. This area in Tucson Arizona is in the Old Pueblo, an area where History lives with the present. Even the tree throwing a shadow on the sidewalk and the old adobe house, reminding me that nothing lasts forever. Not even the hot sun of that wintry day.