We visited the Franciscan mission church of San Jose de Tumacacori on the day before Easter – Holy Saturday, when Christians commemorate the day that Christ’s body lay in the tomb. The old church, constructed between 1800 and 1823, was abandoned during the Mexican War of 1848. Its tiny cemetery is still intact. The largest grave was decorated with a double offering of flowers, no doubt an Easter tribute to the dead. The light had gone out of the sky as we walked among the silent graves. We had no idea who was buried here. Indians? Franciscans? In what centuries did they live and die? I did not seek answers -- only an image that expressed faith. To do so, I contrast the vivid colors of the Easter flowers to the stark, barren crosses that surround them, and to the two hundred year old scarred wall rising behind them. I moved behind a tree, probably bent centuries ago by an Indian, to anchor the scene within a foreground layer. The living tree seems to embrace the dead within its crooked trunk.