We are an odd bunch, we people who ride the cross country trains.
Blog Posts about New Mexico
Radical Feminists, Angry Indians and Illegal Mexicans
These days we are hearing language that is the equivalent of shouting fire in a crowded movie theater, language that whether the speaker is aware of it or not, incites to violence.
Chaco
I loved the baldness of my visit last weekend to Chaco: sleeping on the ground, during two nights in May when the temperature dropped into the thirties, was an ordeal of amazing benefits.
Digging in the Dirt
Emigdio introduced us to the day by reminding us of what we may hear often but seldom observe: the sacred and essential nature of Mother Earth, and the need to play, not work, at restoring her native plants to her while loving her with all our hearts.
My Wild
We must find a way—we women who must claim our wild.
Sugar Nymphs
The bistro is always full with what I’ve come to call Refugee Tourists: men and women of a certain age who look to be fleeing from highways, motels, retirement homes, fast food, and who knows, maybe even from Donald Trump.
Wild West Women
The ur-stories of the West are still ours to tell, not the stories of whores or missionaries, but of buffalo-killers who gut and skin their prey.
Black Pip In Springtime
Our spring comes with a roar of wind and startling blasts of cold air, but it is spring, nonetheless, and Pip and I rejoice.
The Queen
Women have always thronged to churches, finding solace in this image of holy suffering. Is it possible that someday we will throng to the images of the Queen?
Spring Is like a Perhaps Hand in the Window
Healing, for me, comes in the spectacle of nature shifting into another key… and, always, in books.