The Sandia Mountains are east of Albuquerque and more than a two hour drive from my home. Even so, I see them from my house as part of my southern view. They’re that little graceful, humped shape sitting above the rest of the hills—rather elegant I’ve always thought. Sandia means watermelon in Spanish. It’s thought the name derives from the reddish color of the mountains at sunset.

I love my artful life. Just the other day my friend, Vera, invited Anna, Bill and me over for a spring afternoon potluck. She and Nickolas live one village down the mountain in Ojo Sarco. It was sunny and warm and, even more important, still. Not a breath of wind. We spent the entire day outside.

“Take the High Road” is more than just a suggested diversion down a scenic byway. It is a way of looking at life, looking past the surface and into the heart. It is amazing what talents are hidden in these hills.

I wasn’t even tired of winter. I could have been happy with two or three more months of it, I swear. So my utter delight in the appearance of spring has come as something of a surprise. But I am loving all the signs of new life. The winter grasses are giving over to new shoots of green.