… 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.
So whatever it is you may be struggling with, might I suggest you think about Grace’s idea? Find a nourishing way to see it if you can.
I want to enlist your help: I’d like you to witness my journey back to health. Why, you might be asking, should I give a whit about that? But hear me out.
… she was very simply and honestly recording her experience, unvarnished and raw, unedited. Married in 1898, she must have been growing up in these villages in the 1880’s. I wanted to know what it was really like and she told me in remarkable detail.