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Xeriscape
May in Artesia, New Mexico. The habitual west wind blows, but
too hot for my Schnauzers in the car. I stop at La Fonda?s for
an order of cheese enchiladas to go, then take my foil plate to
the city park. At a picnic table with two dogs at my feet, I
gaze across the street into a yard bordered by rust-red lava
rock. In the center stands a massive Spanish dagger with plumes
of white blossoms. Crimson tips atop long canes of octocillo
wave in the favonian breeze. The milky greens of agave and
cenizo lend variety to bright verdancy. As I admire the desert
plants, my hand drops to caress a silky head.
little rain
Mountain Glazes
During gloomy days on the Texas Coast, I remember the colors of
New Mexico and how my spirits rise as I walk up Sudderth Drive,
absorbing the hues of Ruidoso. Slanted morning light touches a
row of shops painted red, blue, or green. Dried red ristras
hang on porches. A crimson staircase spirals to a second-story
boutique. Exquisite in detail, McGary bronzes blind the eye to
lifeless metal. Black bears of carved wood sit in yards. If I
am lucky, I catch a glimpse of Sierra Blanca frosted with snow.
my earrings--
From New Orleans
"An oak fell on the front porch. Water rose four feet
in the lower floor, but the upper rooms are undamaged.
We hope to repair and reopen soon."