It’s hard to not feel like every aspect of life has taken a wrong turn, these days, as humanity veers, and waits, and teeters, and suffers.
Saturday we took refuge on the open land, a sojourn that will no doubt sustain us all week long.
Funny enough, we took a wrong turn, and found ourselves leaving the willow banks of the Rio to climb high, high, up to the top of the world.
The Rio Grande Valley opened wide around us.
Sangre de Cristos, Jemez Mountains, Pajarito Plateau, Black Mesa. Together they form the container that holds us in place.
Sinuous earth veins led home, a reminder that erosion is the metaphor this land loves most.
We returned to where we started from.
Praise how that river keeps flowing. Praise how we carry on.