… 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…
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.
Up here in the mountains of northern New Mexico, in an ancient village that has gone through more than its share of hardships, whose suffering would put mine to shame, two friends spent a day celebrating what it is to live.
It’s a wonder, right there for the taking, every single day, whether it be a kitchen table, a studio, a pasture, neighboring horses, the snores of contented and safe animals, someone we love, a finished painting, a painting in progress, the sun rising, the sun setting…
So, since you are my friends, a part of my family really, I’ve missed you. And although I had little to say, I wanted to share it with you anyway. And to wish you all a very happy Thanksgiving. We do, each and every one of us, have so much to be grateful for, don’t we?
They always begin every meal, every cake, every dish, with the very best ingredients available. They never scrimp because of costs, and this is just one of the many ways the Sugar Nymphs shine above so many others.
So to all of us I wish for a letting go of what no longer serves and an embrace of the unexpected, whether it seems good or bad in the moment. And I’ll take it one further: here’s to shingles, the gift I thought I didn’t want, the bit of real life that brought me back to who I am.