As I write, coyotes are howling from just outside the trailer door. Boon is foofing his warning bark at me, and Annie is pacing the hallway. My fingers are frozen from walking the dogs just a minute ago, our paths almost crossing with their yipping cousins. A part of me wants to stand outside on the […]
6:33a CST – Good morning! – from El Dorado, Kansas (Kansas) Not used to giant thunderstorms to go with my gargantuan cup of morning coffee. My black, lighting apocalypses are usually afternoon tea affairs. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t afraid of a potential Oz-esque tornado to interrupt or follow this cup. […]
And just that fast, another year of school days, endless weeks of wind, and many months of puppy barks, cottonwoods, knocking pipes, thunderstorms, and irrepressible life slowly closes. I love them, and I will see them next August, all of them taller, grown, with more limbs, and fewer teeth. – – – – – – – – […]
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. […]
. . . No matter how many times I’ve walked or run or hiked the 3.3 miles of the loop road in San Fidel, there is always something new I discover. Yesterday, I took the dogs up the east side of the loop (less populated, more wild, and with a better view of the mountain […]
