(ada mae and i walking by an arizona "lake" (aka mud puddle).
16.december.2006
it’s saturday evening and it’s fixin’ to snow. the sky is heavy with anticipation: white and low.
it’s just me and dogs tonight. meg is in vermont and kari and loren are on their way home from florida. the pups are all cuddled into one oddly shaped fur continent – happy and sleepy after a long walk and dinner. i have holiday cards scattered around me, rubber cement and red paper warming up this living room. i cleaned my little home-centered-cancer heart out today and i am basking in the fruits of it – no fisher hair on the couches, i mopped the muddy paw prints off the kitchen floor, i even gave little ada mae a bath - she is all fresh and dewy, curled up between the old boy dogs.
tonight is the first night that i’ve been alone in awhile. and being alone in this concrete block house feels like home. that’s nice. real nice. i feel proud of this cozy content feeling that is surrounding me. we moved out here to arizona at the end of july and it’s already 6 days ‘til winter. i can’t believe that i’ve survived this long on this thin dry air. i haven’t stopped feeling breathless when i look up at the mountains though….they truly are holy. even if everything crumbled around us out here (which it hasn't) – i would be grateful for the chance to live at the feet of the san francisco peaks.
yesterday i spent my day down in phoenix – a desert city. 5 million people aren’t supposed to live in the middle of sand and cacti. (what are they drinking?) as we drove down into the thick of it at 6 in the morning, we could see the dirty weight of the smog over the valley – it’s been a high pollution week – the elderly and the young aren’t supposed to spend too much time outside. driving through the exhaust on the freeways, all my muscles turned into knotted ropes of nervous – there is no southern hospitality on these highways. we got to see a fiery sunrise on the way down though - it looked like the rocks were on fire.
on my way home, after dropping meg of at the airport, i saw 12 shooting stars. the stars out here are so bright, so deep, it’s distracting. i kept seeing skid marks veering off the road and i couldn’t help but think they probably wrecked because of the stars. i felt like i would - if i even tired to glance at the dark night sky full of it’s milky way. so i just followed the yellow line home from the 1,000 foot valley floor to the 7,000 foot mountain highlands.
and now the dogs and i are in hibernation mode. tomorrow we will play in the snow (if it comes) and i will cook soup and bake bread.
lots of love and warm blankets.
rose
