Friday, July 31, 2015

july on the mesa
















We pitch a tent at the end of  long and winding dirt road.
I explore the places that haven't seen footprints in a hundred years.
When the clouds roll in and I'm chased off the mesa by the summer monsoons, I don't take it personally.

I sit on a sandstone cliff at the edge of the earth and thank the gods....
 for my husband
 for my dogs
 for my sister who bought awesome new bandanas for the dogs
 and for the chance, once again, to be in the place I love.

As I whisper these thoughts to the mountain and the moon and the setting sun, a dove flies out of the pinon forest and disappears over the canyon.

Saturday, July 11, 2015

days like pearls









"I believe the nicest and sweetest days are not those on which anything very splendid or wonderful or exciting happens but just those that bring simple little pleasures, following one another softly, like pearls slipping off a string.”
― L.M. Montgomery

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

head for the hills

















June, which was not the best month I've ever had, ended much better than it started. June ended with the scent of pine, sunlight through the tall trees, and occasional rain that fell softly in the forest.

I left the heat of the lower desert behind and found refuge at 7000 feet. The forest was alive, green, and noisy with birdsong.
The dogs splashed in a nearby stream and I wandered through meadow and forest to collect wildflowers. I found six bluebird feathers on the winding dirt road. There were obsidian chips, bright in the sun, left behind by an earlier people. Scraps of busy tool-making days here on this New Mexico mountain. I held a chip in my hand, cleaned it up and looked at the sun, and I caught the abstract glow of light through the translucent rock. I kept that light in my heart.

These are the things I will always remember. These are the places that fill the soul.