Abiquiu Afternoon

A few weeks ago, I had to drive north to Chama for work. Tommy came with, and on the way home, we stopped in one of our favorite places, Abiquiu. This is the place O'Keeffe called "my country," and before you is El Cerro Pedernal, which she painted again and again. It had just rained when we were there, so the the wet red rocks were extra vivid, and the horizon darker blue. And the smell--high desert after a rain. Ahhh. . . the purest, best smell in the world.



Tommy had his eagle bone whistle with him, so he played an impromptu tune. I actually made a mini movie of it, so maybe someday I'll figure out how to load it to this blog. He stood at the edge of the Echo Ampitheater (below) so the flute sounds echoed through the countryside along with bird calls. It was a good day.

Blognesia

Yep, it's a disease I have. I go out, I do something neat, I take photos of it, I think about how I'll put this on our blog, and then I forget that I didn't actually post it. Oh. Logged in a couple days ago and realized that I hadn't posted since Easter. So, I'll try to catch up.



For starters, spring arrived in our little corner of the world, even though it snowed on May 5. Not that I'm complaining exactly. The fact that we had abundant snowfall last winter ensured that our apple trees were heavy with blossoms.



Ahh. . . this is why we have our Mama and Papa chairs in the yard. Remember being a kid and seeing old couples sitting in their yards or on their porches? Just sitting there? No TV on or nothin'? Makes more sense to me now. . .



This is where gardening is a metaphor for life. Remember when I transplanted buckets of iris last fall? Well, those look like utter crap. However, the iris I left alone because I was just too tired from all the transplanting are doing great because I effectively "thinned" them by moving their brothers and sisters elsewhere. Such is life. Sometimes stuff you work on doesn't turn out like you planned. However, there are lovely surprises.