Roadside Cigar

I was fascinated by Gregorio's hands as he worked, how he used his thigh as an improvised table, and how he packed and rolled cigars like a man who had been doing so all his life. I think he has been. But not only the motion of his hands fascinated me, also the dirt under his fingernails, the deep creases at his knuckles, and the skin turned leathery from a lifetime spent in the sun. The hands of a man who spends day in and day out earning his living in the fields but who is generous enough to share both his time and his tobacco with a stranger.