When you live alone in a lonely place, you start to notice things. Each of these things is quiet, and – like with you and everything else that breathes and doesn’t – the wind rushes through and around them. All goes slow or still. Dusklight – the only shadowy movement in the bedroom – crossing […]
The friends of my friends are my friends and are visiting, and we connect and talk and eat and grow and walk and sing and crochet in sunlight . . . . . . You recognize good souls when your heart is instantly at ease, they praise your burned, gelatinous blob of brown rice, and […]
. . . I always wonder what the men and women who used to live here – those who leave the pot sherds and arrowheads, those whom I imagine brown and tough, skin leathered from grinding corn and climbing rocks – thought when they saw the rare and lovely scenes the sky sometimes blesses us […]
Shiprock is a lava plug – the throat of an old volcano now eroded – that rises 1,500-feet out of the northwestern New Mexico desert. It’s a very important place, religiously and culturally, for the Navajo people here. In the Diné language, it is called Tsé Bit’a’í, which translates to something like “winged rock,” I think. […]
