I met a man in Ajo the other day, I could see the boy in him still.   Another in Columbus. Where’re ya going cowgirl? A glance downward...

Who am I and when did that question become so difficult? A mother. A writer. A woman trying to make sense of it all, balancing the past...

It is not my job to please another. Nor yours for that matter. In southern Arizona he wind is still blowing and my face is warm from the...

When I woke this morning there was snow on the mountain tops, both the Little Hatchet and her big brother to the south. It wasn’t there...

In a world of black and white I see permeations of gray. Likely some holdover from long ago when love hid in disguise behind a simple...

I cannot explain myself to you – nor to me for that matter. But I can tell you, the routine of a life repeated endlessly day after day is...

This house is full of dust. It is doubtful it will ever be clean. I sweep and sweep but it penetrates every crack and crevice. And I bend...

I swing the saddle up, lean into the horse and gaze toward Mesa de Anguila - one of the least visited areas of Big Bend National Park -...

Big Bend National Park, Texas The first thing that changed was my hands. Short but clean nails are now dirty and ragged. Rings no longer...

If I had a secret code, it would be one of eagles and roosters. Of stars nesting in blackness. The simmer of an arced flame and the slow...

Of being alone with being lonely. You see, both have their place. Just as the sun completes the moon and the rain gives way to clear blue...

We drive through the valles and arroyos of west Texas, the flatlands and mesas, the ridges and mountains climbing tall into clear blue...

The year I move into my own, away from those who bring the rain and hold on tight to the sun instead. The year I learn to love myself....

Pedernales River State Park | Texas A dappling of light and dark gives an illusion of softness to the hard limestone bed underneath.  ...

Tucked here in my chair of regret, of hopes and aspirations. You see, I know what it’s like to hate yourself. And to love yourself. To be...

If I had a secret code, it would be one of eagles and roosters. Of stars nesting among threads of blackness. The simmer of an arced flame...

The woman I am is buried somewhere inside. I see her on dirt roads and highways unending. Cross-country in the desert, high on the...

and I don't profess to be. That title belongs to others. Me? I am somewhere between horse girl and wanderer. Between stainless steel and...

(as published in the Winter 2024 Cenizo Journal) This is the country they call life. A place where you can be yourself - unencumbered by...

Sometimes I drive until I find myself anew. Casing the southwest as if the dirt will scrub me clean. To the desert and mountains of New...