My Southwest Trip - Windsong

Thursday, April 28

Yesterday I started feeling that I need my own space.  Time is moving and I've spent so much time working and then living with Indygo that my own time is passing me by.  I'm ready.  Indygo says I can have my choice of adobes, Windsong or Towhee (named after the Spotted Towhee, an orange, white, and black sparrow that feeds on the land from the brush).

Surprisingly, Towhee has a sweet feel to the round room and though it sits near the bank of the arroyo with good hiking access, I'd have to carry water farther than Windsong.  And Windsong, it's as special as its name. 

Windsong deck

At the highest point of all the adobes, it has a loft and a deck with a view that looks out toward the mesas and mountains - ignore the power lines and the gray poop-pail, complete with seat, on the deck.

Here I can watch the Ravens soar, the stars shine, and the lightening strike.

Windsong poop-pail/shit-can

I talk with Susan from my new place.  I clean it out and nest, hanging my cards and tokens from friends.  It makes me feel like I have my own place.  I haven't felt that for so long now, just shy of two months.

Ruby cooked for us and calls me on the walkie-talkie to come down for dinner.  They knew I was nesting so started without me.  I shed a few tears at the table when they ask how it feels at Windsong.  It feels so good to have my own space if only for a short while.  Feels challenging that I'll be leaving soon for Taos.

After my call with Susan, I get ready for bed.  I turn off the light and see lightening in the distance, probably south toward Santa Fe if I have my directions right.  I see a drum and strike a few beats.  The lone sound startles me with its bigness in the dark.  I try to envision the Native American and other women who have lived in and around here over the centuries and feel their comfort.

The futon is thin and I feel every board.  I wake often to a hard and steady rain in the night, smiling at the thought that earth and plants will feel nourished.  Maybe we'll see some desert flowers before I leave.  After one of my night-time trips outside to pee, a human action that makes me feel free, I climb the ladder and pull down the small futon from the loft to add to the folded thin one and all is well.