Fun Friday: Mary and Snow Leopard

This past Friday, Mary and I went to the horse farm just next door to The Commons, and she took her first horseback ride without any assistance from her teacher and friend, Ellen. Mary's equine companion, Snow Leopard, was (mostly) a gentleman, although you'll notice in the video that he kept trying to make a bee-line for me based on the knowledge that I had treats hidden in my jacket pocket!



You may also notice that Mary rode Snow bareback without reins or a bit, and she actually did very well with only leg pressure and her close connection with Snow to keep him in line!

After conquering her fear of heights at the Grand Canyon in May, Mary has now also conquered her life-long fear of horses, with many thanks to Snow and Ellen for the opportunity!

Burning Trees

Yesterday, when Tina and I went for a mini-hike in the Santa Fe Forest,  I was alarmed to see large plumes of billowing smoke close by.

En route home, the smoke had circled around the city, forming a sunset illuminated by smoggy clouds in the west. I later learned from Keith that the fires were intentional. I had no idea there were controlled burns in the nearby mountains! At first the smell was light and lovely, titillating my senses with tree essences, but soon unpleasant physical symptoms set in as the clouds persisted and loomed over us.

With headache and eyes burning by evening, Keith and I closed up all the windows to our casita, turned on the air purifiers and exhaust fans, hoping for the best. It was a peaceful, albeit fragrant, night. When this morning greeted me with New Mexico's usual blue skies, I was naively surprised to be met with the thick smell of smoldering wood when I opened the door.  Immediately, my body started producing excess mucus and my lungs reminded me of how I have asthma attacks under such conditions. Dammit! Just when my chemical sensitivity had really improved here over the summer, this smokey air surprise hits me from behind. Unable to find my "I Can Breathe" carbon filter mask (because i have not needed it in so long), I calmly put my air ionizer around my neck and gave Tina her brief morning perambulation. With all my throat clearing sounds happening outside, I became more disheartened to see a fog haze covering the mountains with very little wind to move it along.
 

Back in the casita, I am doing all I can to alkalize my system more--plop, plop, fizz, fizz, Alka Seltzer Gold, that is, with plenty of fresh lemon water. Aware that I need to stay inside on this gorgeous autumn day, yet also venture out to buy a new and better mask, disconcerting questions plague me about the long term implications of nearby controlled burns such as, "How often do these burns happen? Will we be able to live here long-term with b.o.t. (burning of trees)? How is the wildlife impacted by the burns? Other people? How will the winter be for my health with wood smoke burning around us? Will it set our health back?" and so forth.

We're becoming rather attached to our community here, and the old thoughts of, "Where can we go where it is safe to breathe and be?" sadly return and begin to deflate the highs of late summer at The Commons. The recent stirrings of excitement and hopes for a longer stay here hang in suspended animation, much like the haze of smoke that covers Santa Fe Skies that is blurring my vision as I type---or might that be from the tears?

~Mary

A (Rio) Grande Birthday!

Yesterday, September 11th, we celebrated Mary's 51st birthday in the grande style she had requested: by floating down the Rio Grande with inner tubes! Although Mary had her own inner tubing adventure on the Rio Grande several months ago, her greatest wish had been to tube down the river with myself and our son, Rene, so we honored her request and made it happen!

It was a lovely September day here in northern New Mexico, with the temperatures hovering around 82 degrees. After a riverside picnic and other preparations, we hit the river around 2pm, not knowing if we would make it all the way to the second vehicle which was parked almost four miles downstream. With three tubes and an extra raft carrying "supplies" (local beer, peanuts and water!), the intrepid trio set out on our sojourn with high hopes and spirits.

Being late in the season, the river was somewhat low, with some areas less than a foot deep. Experienced in such things, Mary intelligently taught us how to position our bodies in order to avoid major injuries to our coccyx bones. No matter the water level, the scenery was breathtaking as always, with the high Pilar cliffs towering above us as herons, ducks and other birds marked our passage.

Happily, there were five rapids that were great fun and quite exciting, although nothing felt truly dangerous since this is a part of the river quite popular for leisurely inner tubing. We each shot through the rapids without mishap, although Mary did have one complete dunking early on!

As the sun began to sink below the cliffs to our right, the ambient temperature did begin to drop around 5pm, and we dragged ourselves out of the river, with Keith and Rene experiencing marked chattering of the teeth (a strange sensation which I recall as usually being reserved for winter sports).

Up on the road, we quickly warmed in the sun as a personable fisherman befriended us and another friendly passerby stopped spontaneously to offer to take a group photo. Moments later, an equally friendly pair of women in a pickup truck stopped and gave Rene a ride upriver to our van, cementing the fact that people here in New Mexico are quick to be friendly and quick to lend a helping hand.

Changing out of our wet clothes, we drove to the nearby town of Dixon for a lovely birthday dinner, the owner of the restaurant gifting Mary with a birthday surprise: a homemade pinon (pine nut) cookie topped with local vanilla ice cream! The entire staff came out to sing "Happy Birthday", and the birthday girl beamed in delight.

It was a great day, a memorable day, and I have no doubt that Mary will live up to her new self-description: "fifty-one and full of fun!"

Happy Birthday, Mary! We love you so!

Happy Ending!

A very scared and wet yellow lab came to our window during this evening's thunder and lightning storm. He was persistently panting and pleading for shelter from the storm so, of course, I let him in. I knew right away he was not our resident yellow lab and the tag on his collar read "Samson". I left the owners a phone message and also Googled their last name. I came up with owners of Santa Fe Cafe. I called there to learn that the cafe is in South Carolina and the owners had just lost their dog! Different dog, but isn't that weird?

The storm blew in a scared, shaking Samson to be in our safe space with a terrified, trembling Tina. How misery indeed loves company! And lucky me, I had two panting, drooling, pacing, silly, scared dogs by my side, in my lap and like old friends together. It was such a gift, and felt to me like some kind of divine intervention.

The owner was beside herself when she called, telling me the dog was far from home, that the door blew open while she was away and that he took off in the storm. She was worried sick and immediately left to come pick up her baby of 13 years.

Funny how things work out and that this dog arrived to our doorstep, of all places. As many of you know, we used to have a yellow lab named Sparkey, our beloved boy, who grew up with Tina.

The moral of the story is...when opportunity knocks at your door, open the door and let it in!

Here is a fine reward for me doing so tonight:

"Dear Mary, Keith and Tina:

"Thank you, thank you, thank you. Samson and I are sending you a big hug and a lick for watching out for us during this very scary storm.  Please find me on Facebook and keep in touch so we can have you over to our place to properly thank you for saving Samson’s life.

"Much love and appreciation"




---Mary

Pause for the Cause!

Howdy y'all. Long time no see! 

I am here to share with you that I am one happy camper 

and I just had to share the joy with you.

First, I want to express my gratitude to Keith for his heroics that helped get us to--and maintain--our new nest. By heroics, I mean:

A. doing more than the lion's share of the demanding physical work that living in a rig requires. It has been fun to witness how this often frustrating work, along with Keith's commitment to exercise and meditation, has transformed his body into a rather buff, but already handsome man that he is. It has also been good for Keith's peace of mind and good ol' self-'steamers' (esteem).

B. being flexible and temporarily letting go of life on the road as we knew it. While we knew it was time to take a break, maybe even an extended one, it has been a lot easier for me to adapt to our new surroundings than it has been for Keith. Our timing and temperaments are just different like that and it is times like these that I am especially cognizant and grateful for my upbringing as a mobile "army brat" which surely makes adjusting to new environs not only a heck of a lot easier, but a lot more fun too!

C. somehow having the wherewithal to live with ME in a 29' RV for 9 full months!

D. for landing part-time nursing work to enable us to enjoy an extended stay in the Land of Enchantment.

E. supporting me in pursuing a passionate new career path as a "Certified Professional Coach", as in life coaching. Keith has been nudging me toward this livelihood for years, I kid you not, but I simply was not ready as I still had so much to give non-profit organizations. Now is my time to shine as I build the business, my coaching practice and, as always, build myself. I could not do it without Keith's kind support.

Thank you, Keith, for everything, and most of all, for loving me, Rene and our extended families all these years. As we step into our 3rd decade of marriage, I hereby wish you one of our happiest wedding anniversaries yet! 21 years and growing strong! Happy Anniversary, love!

Next, I will attempt to describe a typical morning here at The Commons. After waking, I do my morning pages, yoga, pilates and meditation, then take Tina for a walk around The Commons. We say good morning to the neighbors we see, some dogs frolic a little with Tina, and with some people I stop and chat. The birds sing as people water their gardens, tend to their children or take off on bicycles. (See earlier pictures to get the visual). Some mornings I'll help someone with much worse chemical sensitivity than I have, visit a lonely horse in the barn across the field or get in a good bike ride around the nearby park that I call "Prairie Dog Park". Coming home, I'll have a protein smoothie and get to work (on Rives Carlson Coaching, that is!).

Today, it felt like Mr. Roger's neighborhood here as I checked in at The Commons House to sign up for a work shift and some dinners, did my laundry in the communal, fragrance-free laundry room, poked in on the wee ones in the kid's day care, and accepted an invitation for Tina to play with a fellow Commoner's rambunctious puppy. (Tina is still recovering).

All in all, life is really good here at The Commons, especially now that I've reminded myself that it takes time to forge relations. Being on the road did not allow for the luxury of such time. Connections formed more quickly and the freedom of the road inspired an openness in ourselves and others that 'those who stay more still' are less likely to exhibit--and understandably so.

Now that Keith and I have a foot in each of those worlds, we attempt to strike a balance and be realistic with our expectations, yielding to the necessity of the passing of time. After all, ya can't really force a garden to grow. So, with our approaching anniversary (that we are blessed to be sharing with old and dear friends), we will celebrate sweetly and in appreciation of having arrived to a wonderful place to call home, most likely for long enough to reap the fruits of our labors of love in this lovely oasis of a co-housing community!

Grand Canyon Haiku

Blue sky eagles fly

Red canyon walls glowing wild

Weary hikers smile

This simple Haiku above was written by a child--and it remains my fave. I saw it at the Grand Canyon Visitor Center and it sparked a series of my own. Enjoy!

Safe perch atop Grand Canyon

Fear of heights now past

Condor land below so high

Perception deceives distance

Flattening the depths

Rock reality prevails

Ancient history presents

Boulder color show

Majestic mountains speak

Paleozoic looming

Red wall limestone warmth

"The Great Unconformity"

Patient carving of canyon

Erosion gorges

El Rio Colorado

Ever deepening river

Sulfate smog above

Still magnificent beauty

My heart sinks with the sunset's

Final pink of day

Spirits depart from earth here

At Grand Canyon's fragile edge

The wind has carried

Dear David's ashes away

Ancestral Pueblo people

Seasonal nomads

The Painted Desert beckons...

A Texas Tribute: A Damn Yankee Comes Home (but not to roost)

On our Excellent Adventure, Keith and I have traveled through much of the vast state of Texas, saving beautiful Big Bend country for another time. We have actually taken a shine to Texas and to Texans, but have yet to find a place here that feels like it could be home. However, now that Keith and I are officially legal residents of the Lone Star State, I feel it is a ripe time to claim my Texas heritage, especially since just yesterday in El Paso I paid homage to my ancestral roots by visiting the grave of my great grandfather, Will T. Rives. (Please note the world famous Chico's Tacos across the street from the cemetery, a restaurant that smelled so good as I paid my respects that we had to go and sample their goods soon after.)

Here I am offering some prayers of thanks to the spirit of this man I never met---my great grandfather---and for the three generations of William Thomas Rives that followed him: my grandfather ("Big Bill"), my Dad ("Little Bill", who would be Colonel to you, Sir), and my big brother Tom, who died of cancer during his senior year of high school when I was sixteen.

Will T. Rives saved a girl from a most certain and tragic death had he not rescued her from a speeding horse. His heroic act caused him a serious injury that pained him for the rest of his life. Apparently, he contracted tuberculosis and died in a TB ward from a gunshot wound that was most likely a suicide. His gravestone,  lovingly engraved by my father and his cousin, reads: "Warm, Loving, Brave".

The widow of Will T, my great grandmother Kate Marmion Rives, was no shrinking violet. Being fluent in Canary Island Spanish, she pulled herself up by her Texan bootstraps, ran a roadside Mexican restaurant in the 1920s, supervised hotel chambermaids, and worked for the El Paso Chamber of Commerce. She must have been a force to be reckoned with, and was apparently a character to boot.

I learned from my father, a stellar family genealogist, that I am 11th generation Texan and that some of my people came to "Tejas" from The Canary Islands of Spain (when Texas was still a part of Mexico called Tejas).

I remember turning ten years old in the Texas Panhandle in a small town called Canyon where my family of six lived for a year before we had to move on, as was the Army way. Nearby is Palo Duro Canyon, which Texans fondly refer to as "The Grand Canyon of Texas". Keith and I visited both Palo Duro Canyon and the town of Canyon on this trip and I got to visit our old family home and take a jolly walk through memory lane. Here I am in a lively video clip sharing some happy childhood memories in front of the old house, nearby which is the park and swimming pool where we played and swam as kids, all of which are still thriving and remain just as I remember them!





When we were kids and moving just about every year, we almost always stopped in Denton, Texas to visit my grandparents. My Dad and his only sibling---my Uncle Tim Rives---share the same birthday, September 22---but 17 years apart! Tim was closer to us kids in age than he was to my Dad, and my brothers and I really looked up to him, cool superstar high school football player that he was. Here we are together on his Denton, Texas ranch from a visit in 2009. Keith and I are glad we visited the Denton Rives again on this trip, getting to know each other more and sharing in depth about each other's lives, reflecting back on some hard family times and what got us through. We also watched the Super Bowl in its entirety!

Paying homage to Texas would not be complete without including my parents. (Please note that my mother is not a Texan but a New Orleanian, so her saucy side of the family is a story for another time). We are grateful for our relatively frequent visits to see my folks, especially on this trip when our rig needed time-consuming, expensive repairs during which they put us up and put up with us! My parents have lived in an active retirement community called Sun City outside of Austin for more than a decade where they are thriving in many ways. They model intentional community for us and we are grateful that they are so happy and well connected to a really nice network of kindred spirits. One day, we will be too!

---Mary

Two Big Nuts

Here's a photo of Mary at the base of the world's largest pistachio at a farm and store in Alamogordo, New Mexico. Pistachios are a Rives Family tradition, and Mary just had to have her photograph taken in front of this nutty monster.

Mary Dances Atop El Morro

 

Mary Flushes A Raven!

In the Wilds of the West

After our sweet visit to Wits End Cooperative, Keith and I decided to take the "work week" off from visiting intentional communities. After possibly finding our new home in the hills outside of Santa Fe, there is a feeling of greater ease seeping its way into our journey, this journey of a lifetime that our time on the road truly is. I am grateful for it all, and especially to Keith who has been such a great traveling partner and devoted blog writer. I realize that my voice has been unusually quiet on "Mary and Keith's Excellent Adventure" for some time now, and it has taken this journey futher into the wilds of the West to inspire me to share some of it with you all once again.

So, embracing a collectively renewed sense of adventure and openness, we decided to take a left hand turn at Albuquerque and explore the Pueblo areas to the west. Usually we take care to not travel too many miles in one day, but yesterday was an unexpected exception as the miles continued to invite me into the greater reaches of the Land of Enchantment. If you've ever had a peak hike or an ultimate drive in the country and been completely mesmerized by the beauty, power and splendor of nature, then you can understand how I've been feeling since we headed west, young man (and woman).

Yes, yesterday's journey west consisted of eight hours of rig driving, but it also consisted of one of the most specatacular drives of our journey--and possibly of our entire lives---seeing Pueblo after Pueblo of tribal lands where sovereign indeginous people live their lives, and having the unique experience of being within the United States but not really being in US territory.

We are glad that during this ecstatic ride we mustered up our courage to stop at the Santo Domingo Pueblo and initiate a meaningful conversation with two Cochiti gentlemen. Our chat took place in their Santa Domingo Mission Church. This church was built fifteen years before the Pilgrims landed at Plymouth Rock and still possesess records dating back to 1605! Visitors to this Pueblo are welcome to worship side by side with the Indians and we felt honored and humbled to be personally invited to come and celebrate Easter Sunday with them next weekend. Our  friends encouraged us to knock on the doors of local artisans' homes, assuring us that we would be welcome guests. Since we are not into collecting material things at this time, we simply thanked them and went on our way in our loud diesel rig, attracting curious stares which we met with our gentle waves and smiles, most of which were duly returned.

I am still beholding the stunningly beautiful, vast open stretches of earth punctuated with diverse, layered mountainscapes and miles of mesas below them with blue, blue skies and the warmest red sunset above the amazing rock formations we call mountains. The day ended with the two of us watching the full moon rise over one such mountain we are nestled safely beneath in our "Rig-a-Tina"---not too shabby.

The peak sunset drive of yesterday landed us in the perfect place to camp here in El Morro, New Mexico amidst like-minded folks until we head back to Albuquerque to continue our community search on Friday. Not so fast will we return to the big city. We will linger here and lead a Laughter Yoga session in a community arts and events center called "The Old School", which is just across from the campground. Tomorrow we will visit the Zuni Pueblo and even though we are taking a break from the intentional community quest,  we can't help but visit the Zuni Mountain Sanctuary. ZMS is an intentional community of "radical faeries" near the Zuni Pueblo to which we were graciously invited by our generous campgound host who happens to be a co-founder and friend of ZMS!

In our lingering here in the wilds of the west, we will hike, eat, read, write and rest some more. When we finally peel ourselves away from this magical spot, we hope to visit the Acoma Pueblo en route back to Albuquerque. Acoma is place that beckons us to explore it more thoroughly, amazing Acropolis of the west that it is. This time we will be taking turns with Tina care as one of us takes the little bus up to the mesa village known as "Sky City". (No other way is permitted up the mountain). We cannot possibly live in New Mexico without this experience. Once back in Albuquerque, we will be visiting with the folks at Sunflower River Community just 4 miles south of the city over the weekend.

If you ever come out this way, dear Reader, be sure to camp at El Morro RV Park and Cabins where, at the base of a hikable mountain, there are little cabins, campfires, tent and rv sites, a yurt where massage, drumming circles and a Reiki clinic take place, and also the Ancient Way Cafe, which has the best pancakes ever (and we haven't even tried lunch yet!) In addition to the above-mentioned amenities, you can climb to breathtaking overlooks on amazing rock formations on the edge of the mesa some five hundred feet above the campground. (On our hike today, we had to make joyful sounds while hiking due to the bears that are waking up from hibernation. And hey, we found evidence of a coyote tracking us, most likely hoping for a snack just about Tina in size! We're also aware that there are at least a few elk and a mountain lion living in the hills nearby.)

Today we are resting up after our hike and these wild, dusty, spring winds of change blowing in from the Southwest. Manana we will go to "Inscription Rock", a nearby national monument, and hopefully visit the Wolf Sanctuary too. This certainly is "God's Country", and I am humbled with gratitude for all of this space in our lives, for the original people of "Turtle Island" and the perseverance of their cultures, languages, and what remains of their ancestral lands.

May you enjoy the links to all of the above and a few photos of our hike today. Because we are honoring the tribal laws that forbid photographing of Tribal Land without a purchased permit (with a maximum fine of $1,000), we won't have photos of the other scenes I'm barely able to even crudely describe to you. If we manage to buy a photography permit at Acoma Pueblo, then you can have a glimpse of the beauty we are blessed to behold here in one of the hearts of Indian country.

---Mary

Miles and Miles of Texas

In our quest to reach Taos this coming weekend, we spent today making our way through hundreds of miles of Texan terrain, leaving behind the mild and sunny climate of central Texas (just when signs of spring have arrived) and barreling along the flat, straight highways into the heart of the Texas Panhandle where huge Longhorn steers grazed along the side of the road.

Small Texan towns are frequently graced with interesting and quirky names. Inspired by William Least Heat-Moon's predilection for interesting town names (he would base his travel itinerary on which towns had the most intriguing or funny names), here's a brief and entertaining list of towns spied along the way today:

• Novice
• Oplin
• Comanche
• Blanket
• Oatmeal
• Zephyr
• Sweetwater  
• Trickham
• Rising Star
• Early
• Tye
• Lawn
• Happy (population 647)

Don't these just sound like they could be the names of horses? Mary bets there are Texan towns named after horses and horses named after Texan towns.

Texas is an idiosyncratic place, a country unto itself in many ways, and a state whose residents pride themselves in their history and individuality. In fact, it is the only state in the US that is also a republic unto itself and could legally secede from the union and be its own country if it chose to! (We know some of you probably wish they would!). There is so much to see, and so many small towns worthy of at least a brief walk along shady arcaded main streets with their false store fronts and interesting Western architecture. If we had the time (which we usually have plenty of), we're sure many colorful conversations could be had if we spent some lazy hours at a few local watering holes and barbecues (like the one pictured below where Keith took a surreptitious photo from his lap), but alas, that will have to wait for another time.

You see, we are on a mission to get to Taos as soon as we can, a mission which has motivated us to make a 360-degree turn and the longest drive in a single day of our trip yet---almost 500 miles! Phew! We actually made it beyond the halfway point to the little city of Canyon where Mary spent a very happy year of her childhood. We've already driven by the home on her old street (which looks just the same but even better), her old school Rex Reeves Elementary, and the pool and playground where she used to swim and play with her brothers and pals. It's nice to see that Canyon has retained its small town feel and that its downtown and infrastructure seem to be thriving. Canyon has one of the lowest crime rates in the state of Texas, not to mention the lowest taxes. Indeed, the general economy in Texas "es mejor" than most states we've traveled through, yet the Southwest still calls us, Mary's eleven generations of Texas roots notwithstanding.

This afternoon, stopping at a Home Depot in some nondescript town for supplies, we were standing outside the rig when a big black pickup truck pulled up, and the windows rolled down.

"Is that all you?" the young man in a baseball cap asked as he flicked the ashes of his Marlboro cigarette out the window, pointing at our rig. "That's quite a truck you got there." The woman in the passenger seat agreed, and the second young man in the back seat grinned and smoked in silence.

Keith strode over to their truck and leaned on the sideview mirror. "Yeah, it's our only home. We sold everything and hit the road. Now we're looking for a new place to call home."

The man in the truck leaned over towards the passenger side and said, "Well, the Texas hill country is one of the most beautiful places in America. We live near the lake about 20 miles from here. It's quiet, no one bothers you. You could live anywhere here and be happy." He took a drag on his Marlboro and his girlfriend nodded agreement to his assertion.

"Well thanks," Keith said. "My wife's parents are in Georgetown and her aunt and uncle are in Denton, so this is about halfway between them. But we're on our way to Taos to visit our son. We might end up in New Mexico, after all."

"Well, that's too bad, but good luck with your trip and all. That's a fine truck you have there." And with that, they drove away.

The rest of the long drive consisted of oil fields, oil refineries, long stretches of open country and low red cliffs, and the area of Sweetwater which claims to be the "Wind Energy Capital of the Country", where massive windmills dot the landscape like multi-armed titans. Meanwhile, the small oil wells (no photos, sorry!) dotting the vast open landscape resembled arch-backed dinosaurs hungrily pumping away at the earth in their eternal quest for crude.

Even though it's easy to feel judgmental of the people who speculate about, pump or invest in the development of crude oil, it's that very crude that powers our rig, cooks the food on our propane stove, and heats our rig to a toasty warmth on a cold night. Oh the irony of it all.

Slowing down to local speed limits as we entered various towns along our route, we saw signs for custom meat processing plants, an auction of "exotic animals", an archery and taxidermy specialist, a rodeo stadium, a gun shooting range, and any number of car lots packed with pickup trucks, diesel rigs, and farm machinery. Intriguing small town shops beckoned to us in almost every place we passed through, but the miles of open road ahead of us had a stronger magnetic pull than the storefronts, sadly enough. Still, the character of the charming towns left us wanting more, and there's no doubt we'll pass this way again some day.

At this writing, we are "boondocking" in the parking lot of the Canyon Holiday Inn Express, the night manager sympathetic with our need for a free and convenient place to park for the night. Mary entered the lobby, told him our story, and he said "I have no problem with that" when he learned that we would sleep in the parking lot and leave early in the morning to visit Mary's childhood home down the street.

At this late hour, the wind blows fiercely and rocks the rig, and the outside temperature is 47 degrees. With plenty of propane, we're safe and warm in our cozy mobile home, and the sounds of a distant train and the traffic on the street in front of the hotel are no obstacle to sleep (especially with ear plugs). After 470 miles of open Texas roads, we'll sleep as soundly as a rancher stuffed with pulled pork at the end of a harvest day.

Howdy from Canyon with love from Mary and Keith.

Valentine Delight: Signs of Spring in Texas

Valentine greetings to all! Here are some photos from Valentine's Day at Rainbow Hearth, where we are completing a week's stay and work exchange.

Sunflower sprouts in full blossom

A curious deer not far from our rig (close-up thanks to our new camera)

A vulture looking for springtime prey

February flowers in Texas

A Texan bee hard at work

Flowers and cacti

A smiling Mary

Keith and Tina at Medicine Rock