Sidetracked Charley

The Once Great Hoop House I read just today that the Taos Pueblo has not reopened since it closed at the beginning of the pandemic. I believe I fully understand. The Calf Canyon and Hermits Peak Fire and dozen day evacuation has me radically re-examining my life too. I am thrilled my home was not burned down. And no doubt the residents of Taos Pueblo are thrilled their community and its lifestyle survives the two year pandemic. They may even be very glad to not have to cater to the visitors. Living in the home of a friend for 12 days gave me a chance to see how others live. And living in another town as not a visitor but not a resident allowed me another view of that town and my neighborhood. Initially I just became overly involved with my house now that I was back in it. I had left it in a horrid mess. Running from room to room finding everything you wanted or needed to take aways from the fire with you leaves the house a total mess. I was shocked. Putting it right seemed so overwhelm...

  In the middle of January I began leafing through the garden catalogs. But the Calf Canyon fire erupted from beneath its burial under snow April 9 and joined with the Kermits Peak fire inadequately put out and awakened by wind. It was clear this was not going to be a normal spring. The flowers, wild and domestic, seemed in a rush to bloom and die. No spring rains came over the mountains to moisten the ground. It was not yet May and the snow no longer graced the top of the mountains. And days when the sky was adorned with smoke instead of clouds. I put aside the garden and seed catalogs, looked at the damage the winds had done to my hoop house, and ran my fingers through the powerery soil in the beds. Then came up with a much downsized plan for gardening in 2022. I had just sown the sunflower seeds in one bed, and begun an assortment of starts for lettuces and greens when we were evacuated. Eleven days of no water or rain and only wind put quit to that effort. Back home I found the...

The Sangre de Cristos   I drove to the market yesterday for avocados. It was Thursday before the Memorial Day invasion. The tourist season comes on Harley Davidson motorcycles decked out in their leathers. Supposedly they are "celebrating" a war I marched to end. I usually just hide away in my Black Lake home and try to shut my ears as they roar down Hwy 434. The rest of the tourist season will be quieter but also not welcome. This year I feel like a tourist. I have just returned from exile in neighboring Eagle Nest. I have been an evacuee for 12 days. I have been glad to be back in Black Lake on the land I love but it has not yet felt like home. I feel like a cat on a hot tin roof. Thicke, my cat, has settled in better than me. I stand in my studio and pace trying to figure what to do next. I come up with a plan to unpack this or rearrange that. Move a few things then abandon it.  I had planned to go to Taos and stock up with groceries for the invasion, and go by Ace Hardwar...

  Someone said in the last couple days that the Calf Canyon and Hermits Peak wildfire has been going on for 48 days. So let's say 50 by now. It is actually Hermit Peak unless you are from Mora in San Miguel County where it stands. They call it Eagle Peak. The Anglos renamed it for an Italian religious recluse Giovanni Maria de Agostini, who lived in a cave on a narrow ledge on the southeastern side of the mountain about one hundred feet below the summit rim. Regardless of what you call it that is where our massive wildfire began on April 6th. It was declared contained but winds spread it to Gallinas Canyon to begin the Calf Canyon Fire. I get rather confused about then because there was the Cerro Pelado Fire, Scott's Ridge Fire, and the Cooks Ridge Fire. All the same fire with different names? Or all wind born spawn of the Hermit Peak fire. What I did know was Mora was evacuated and I had a friend who lived in Mora. I invited her to stay in my vacation rental which I wasn't...