You Never Know

(I'm not certain why I took this photo. We were walking up the gallery street and I looked through the trees and saw the snowy mountains. The tree, the adobe pueblo, the hills, even the snow just felt like Santa Fe at the moment. Hard to see the mountains in the background, but I liked the photo anyway...more tomorrow.)

We fell asleep at 8:30 Santa Fe time, 7:30 our time. We slept like we were sinking, waking at 3:30 Santa Fe time. We rolled over and sighed. It's good to be close again, in the same bed, and semi-conscious. I read for a half hour and fell back to sleep and then we started our day with rain and hail and finally snow. Breakfast was an accident albeit pleasant and fulfilling -- organic everything right down to the Mexican Hot Chocolate Ann let me share with her. We bought an umbrella and sauntered around the plaza saying good morning to the artisans bundled in their colorful blankets trying to stay warm. Every gallery was beautiful and though we want to buy art for our house, it was overwhelming, a sensory overload so we walked away with only postcards from the Georgia O'Keefe museum.

And then a nap. I am still suffering from this nasty cold, which first settled in my throat where all my nasties settle and has now moved to my chest. I feared something worse on our hike after the nap as I had to stop on numerous occasions to catch my labored breath. "How high up are we?" I asked Ann. "I haven't a clue," she huffed back. So tonight, after another scrumptious bowl of squash soup and cornbread, we looked up Santa Fe's elevation.

7000 feet! No wonder I can't breathe!

The sun is setting and as our hillside retreat looks west, we've a beautiful view of the pinks and blues of the evening. Tonight Venus is supposed to be visible and the Seven Sisters as well. We'll stay up for a look and then I imagine crash again as we are both recovering from the life (and death) of the past two weeks.

Traveling is not in my blood. I like landing, but the journey brings about my impatience. Ann is very tolerant of my irritation with slow lines and nasty flight attendants, but I am a much better person when I am HERE and not on my way HERE. I am enjoying this HERE (Santa Fe) and I so thankful Ann's friends were out of town for the first half of our visit as their house has been the perfect retreat -- quiet, clean, spacious, and filled with good food and more bathrooms than bedrooms (odd, but helpful when you're in one corner of the house and nature calls -- oh, there's a bathroom right here!)

Traveling also makes me appreciate home more. Simple things like the taste of the water or not knowing the aisles of the grocery store throw me out of whack. Though our trip to Whole Foods was a cultural experience far more entertaining than our gallery hopping. I don't miss home, but I know, once we board the tiny plane back to Denver and then head home from Denver to Seattle, I will grow impatient with my desire to be home where the water tastes clean and I know my way around.

Ann (as we're sitting eating lunch at Whole Foods before shopping): Don't all these people looke like they live in Seattle?

Me: Yes, but they're all white.

Ann: True, but their clothes and their posture, it all says Seattle.

Me: Do you think we'll ever travel to some place that's not like Seattle?

Ann: We'll go to Paris and visit my relatives. That's not like Seattle.

Me: But then I'll have to wear fancier shoes. People in Paris wear fancy shoes, like fancy-expensive and uncomfortable shoes. I wear Keens. People in Seattle wear Keens. I'd be guillotined if I wore Keens in Paris.

Ann: (smiles)

Me: I like to fit in, but fancier shoes, well, I'm not sure I can do it.

Ann: We don't have to think about it now. We can just be here.


Yes, we can just be here with Venus and Mexican Hot Chocolate and the thin air.