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At the confluence of Carson and Santa Fe National Forests and the Chama River Canyon Wilderness, New Mexico


It’s been a minute, since I’ve written to you my love and I am sorry for that. I have been tired, at a loss for words, swept up in this everyday thing we call life, dulled and worn until there were simply no vibrant or lively edges left it seemed.


But I rode a trail today, to the top of the mesa, 1300 feet up in a short two and a half miles, through rocky ledges and steep scrambles, through pinon and new growth forest slowly recovering from the last burn. I could smell the pine with each brush of the horse’s passing and at the top there was a view. And at the top I thought of you - your fierceness, your courage - your heart. Sometimes I think you are more an idea than a reality but I like this idea, regardless.


We sat there a while, the horse and I, gazing across at the Ghost Ranch, the reservoir, the rusty landscape of the Chama basin fading into the rift of the Rio Grande. I have stared at my wounds for far too long. Stuck. Mired down in mud even 4-wheel low won’t cross.



I rode a trail today, to the river, toward the ombre cliffs and rays of light, toward the rushing water of the Chama running swift and hard. I could feel her strength beneath my feet, hear her aching call clear and crisp in the still and cloudy morning. And there, standing on the point, I thought of you – your smile, your bright eyes and inquisitive nature - your confidence. You’ve been gone for so long it seems.


We stood there a while, the horse and I, gazing across at the Mesa Prieta, down at the river with her bends and curves, then turned and made our way toward camp through soft ground and a field of Cholla in bloom – a dangerous and diversive beauty.



I have lived too long hiding pieces of myself, burying them. They bloom regardless. They find their way, through the thorns and thickets and the scattered bones left by those before and up to the ridge – to the tipping point - where there is always a view to be reckoned with.


I rode a trail today my love, to the top of the mesa, to the river, through the valleys, the dips and curves of this land, and I thought of you – the woman I am becoming - so different from the one I was before.


Welcome home.



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