Nick is the kind of guy who is all too rare these days. He loves his work, he’s very smart and good at what he does, and he’s honest. His office walls are covered with thank you letters and photos from grateful clients who found themselves in trouble out in the middle of the Utah desert and who, like us, were saved by Nick.
Stepping out of the trailer into the darkness of predawn, the stars still shining in the morning sky, an owl high on the cliffs above us softly hooting…
Although Mabel was a wealthy New York heiress born in 1879, we do share this: We both came to New Mexico with rather cavalier attitudes about it.
… listening to birdsong as I hang out the laundry (the larks are back and nesting, mapping out their territories in song, so it is particularly splendid right now), the toads croaking their hearts out in the little acequia that runs through my land…
Haunted wouldn’t be a term I would use. I don’t think when one loved as much as Mabel did, when one believed in things greater than herself and was committed to creating something beautiful, something better, for those of us coming along behind, those people don’t haunt.
I just discovered there’s a lunar eclipse tomorrow morning (and a full moon which I already knew about of course), while I’m snug, high up in the sky, in my glass-walled nest. This just can’t be a coincidence, can it?
I’m packing a bag and some books and heading down to Taos to stay in Mabel Dodge Luhan’s old house. Really. I am. I can’t believe it myself, but it’s true.