This is twice, maybe three times or so that I’ve encountered a particular scenario. First time, twice in the same location, I’d be in a ‘treehouse,’ suspended over the Pacific Coast, the great redwood groves at my back, surf crashing the rocks hundreds of feet below me. Wind whipping and the house swaying romantically in the stiff, offshore breezes, me, with a word processor in font of me and nothing. Some of the most profound natural beauty in world, and I got nothing.
Perched in house, up canyon, not miles from the Santa Fe square, look to the west and it’s the nascent Rio Grande, to the north and the east? Scrub high desert hills. Mountainous terrain. Amazing view. One evening, a thunderstorm, brewing with lightening underneath the clouds capping a sunset. Other evenings, smoke from the fire highlighted against the setting sun.
Two trips to Georgia O’Keefe’s Ghost Ranch. The hills, the striated rocks and the visual grandeur of Northern New Mexico, purple, ocher, reds and dusky greenery punctuating the images.
The oldest church (Roman – Catholic) in North America, 1610, still, nothing
Drop me in a (man) cave in SA, or even just parked in the kitchen? Formerly, a trailer park in South Austin? Sure, loquacious as ever. Butt parked in all that natural splendor?