At Viejo San Acacio, mass is observed in a church dating from 1856; outside, the only sounds are as they must have been earlier—of the wind, and the flat, soft ring of sheep bells. To go inside, in the brilliance and heat of a July day, is to discover stillness. Shadows are soft and the temperature mild. Few buildings give so strong a feeling of sanctuary as do early, thick-walled adobes.

—R.A., 1974