Even a little moisture in New Mexico comes with big announcements. And the next day, we start all over again.
Like a star at night, I spend a moment on the first bird I see in the morning. Today it was a robin sitting in dead piñon as the sun came up. Being a sensible 73-year-old, I dismissed the anthropomorphic tendency to think the bird was doing the same thing as I, observing the glory …
Blue sky in the morning Wednesday and for my evening walk, wildfire smoke gray gone in three directions at least for a day. Camera exaggerating in 6:30 p.m. light but still picking up smoke to the west.
Sky and lone piñon, walking home at sunset.
I am lucky man, even with a few clouds.
As we set off dynamite charges on a trail-building job in the High Sierra many years ago, sending huge shards of silvery granite temporarily skyward, an old blaster named Bill said to me, “Look up, John: That’s where the Lord is coming from.” I’m still looking up, but it has been a lot safer since. …
dream ranch 