Its Valentine's Day, and I find myself sitting alone in my room, with not much more than a couple of dogs to love sprawled out on my bed. My room is filled with things that I am too scared to unpack. Did I really want to commit to being in Durango for a year? I am just not sure. Good things are happening though. There is no doubt, magic is unraveling right before my eyes, the same way the Animas Valley lays out its red carpet for the mountains to the north.
I just spent about half a week in the field, working my Jedi mind tricks and allowing students and parents to stroke my ever-forming ego. For lack of a better adjective, it was awesome. It is true, the desert has indeed been calling my name. My urge to rub my face in the red dirt below my feet has finally been fulfilled, and my heart has finally released its lamenting song as I slept beneath a waning moon and watched the sunrise on a sandstone outcropping; my favorite place to watch the sunrise; a place that gives the words, expansive skies, a whole new meaning.
(You will have to excuse me- I have been attempting to add grammar to my blog, (hence the capital letters) and am just not so sure of the correct usage of the semi-colon- currently looking for a class to take to solve this issue and/or open to cheap tutoring.)
I have indeed had a love affair with the desert. The pinion and the juniper trees have swooned me into wanting only the smell of sage on the breeze. But alas, I cannot shake my feeling of wanting to go; wanting to keep searching, jump in the car I don't have, and keep driving further west. That way, I can make sure that there is nothing over there that contains the answers. Because while I did find answers, I didn't find the answer buried under last autumn's maple leaves, and while I did find answers, I didn't find the answer in the depths of the sweet warm pacific, and while I am finding answers, I am still not finding the answer in this bosom of plenty where the mountains and the desert meet.
I guess the important thing is, I have started singing again, and there is no one around to tell me to stop.
