Itʻs all about the ride: rabbits, roosters and coyote!

In mid-February, having well and truly nailed the door to freedom closed by buying a brand new vehicle, and still wandering in that liminal space, the first road trip is north, just across the state border, to Ignacio, place of visions and revisions.

I find further gingerbread crumbs.

Rabbits. Roosters. A bear. Coyote. More colours than you can dream up. 

In fact Ignacio in late winter is taking on a decided Mad Hatterʻs tea party ambiance.

Itʻs all about the ride. Uh-huh uh-huh. Especially since I am currently chewing on the fact that I have imprisoned myself for a long long time for the Red Pony. Car loan debt. Itʻs all about the ride.

Telling it like it is

In Ignacio, on one of my voyages of discovery,  I find an interesting topic for contemplation.

What is it I am squandering and what do we really leave our heirs?

Surface things

In just two weeks I have used more lotion than in the past two years.

At least that big bottle of Fair Trade shea butter I bought when leaving Deadhorse Gulch way back then is no longer going to waste.

Exploring north: de colores

Mostly I work 4 ten hour days. Three days off almost every weekend.

While I waited for my ship to come in, and the container of household goods to be delivered, these three days could be dedicated to exploring.

Ha!

North. South. East. West. All roads lead out of town. Some of them out of state.

The state line with Colorado is within spitting distance.

The best grocery shopping for someone who eats funny the way I do,  is also north, in Durango, Colorado. Trust me, it is not easy being vegetarian, let alone vegan in the high desert. If I want to eat out I find I have to do a lot of amending menu offerings

 The San Juan Mountain range saws a jagged horizon against the impossibly blue skies.

De colores. Indeed.

Sunset New Mexican style: de colores

Stopping to pick up my mail from the post office, on the south eastern edge of town, one evening after work, the sky put on oh! just the usual show.

De colores indeed.

A whole lot of apples

Last month I found myself waiting for a car salesman to get me into debt for the rest of my life. He bought me an apple juice to bide the time.

The little bottle was less than 450ml. Just under 2 cups worth. A whole lot of different countries supplied the apples for that. USA, Argentina, Austria, Chile, China, Germany and Turkey.

Ainʻt nature marvellous!

Izote: yucca periculosa

In early February there is not much green in any garden around.

Down the street I find an example of the Mexican native Izote (yucca periculosa). It has been a little tortured, presumably to keep the spikey ends of the leaves from piercing passersby on the street.

My eye is starved for green. I feast on this beautiful plant.

Animas river moonset

I wake early to walk along the river in a frosty dawn at full moonset.

Four or five eagles are fishing from high in the trees.

Geese greet me noisily.

Little ducks stand by, put on alert by all the honking

Thereʻs evidence, in the frozen mud,  of other fourfooted creatures, probably of the canine domesticus variety in this case. Elsewhere I find the cloven prints of deer.

I disentangle a hook and nylon line left by a careless fisherman.

This early in the season and the morning, this cold, I am the only human.

Returning home, I find evidence of a passing valentine, a concrete declaration of last summerʻs love. Or another message from those crazy gods. Again.

The skyʻs the limit

In this new land the sky is unlimited: big, wraparound, always changing colours, especially at the liminal times of dawn and dusk.

 The moon remains the same. Living in a house which is orientated east/west means that I get to see the moonʻs journey.

Birds of enchantment

The first visitors to the backyard lockup were birds.

American Robins - at least seven of them - updating me on territorial imperative and claim to the land.

A handful of the little brown numbers turned leaves over busily.

A fine example of what I suspect might just be a Gilded Woodpecker, cousin of the Northern Flicker of my previous acquaintance, showed me all aspects of unique plumage.

Goooooooood morning New Mexico

In the desert, besides there being no one to remember your name, the snow doesnʻt hang around for long.

Looking out on my first morning in the Blue House, most of the snow had retreated to higher ground.

This is the view of the other side of the fence at the bottom of the Blue House boundary

The sounds of geese honking is ever present. They do not migrate, but apparently make their homes year round here at this Place of Flowing Water.

I hung up my spurs on the fine programable thermostat - a suitable first household altar to the gods of the gingerbread trail in this symbolic life. Who else but the crazy gods would toss the King of Hearts card in my path at this, of all times.

Then I treated myself to a hot sopaipilla drizzled with honey at the cantina downtown.

Bring on the rest of my life, you crazy gods! Golondrina is in the house