Starting Monday I’ll be back on the prairie in SE Colorado.

Hot sun, fresh air and wildflowers galore. The antelope are fat and sassy, ready to drop their babies into the long grasses. There’s an owl in my barn with fledgling offspring ready to take that first leap. The bats will have emerged and gobble early grasshoppers, flies and skeeters. Nighthawks flitting in the dusk; the last rays of sunshine reflecting off their wings. I’ll feel the ancients at the top of the Hogback. And see a sensual, sexy moon rising in view of my front porch.

No phone, no cell phone, no TV, no washer or dryer, and no internet for 15 miles.

I will again have time to read, sketch, write, think and just be…nine days of solitude.

I am yours.
However distant you may be,
There blows no wind but wafts your scent to me,
There sings no bird but calls your name to me.
Each memory that has left its trace with me
Lingers forever as a part of me.
I am yours…
Eric Clapton

February 2008: The song is the last dance I shared with a man whose house I eventually rented before I moved to Hawaii. We were lovers at the time, and he was moving to take a new job in California. When I wrote this down the night after he was on his journey, I was missing him terribly. Bittersweet, as he is still a cherished friend here in Hawaii who I have limited time with because of his relationship circumstances. I continue to have much love in my heart for him.

The song also refers to how I feel about a very special place on the prairie of SE Colorado. Little did I know at the time, it would also be my last summer at Pinon Canon, the place I lived for twelve continuous summers while doing fieldwork. It would be the last of a lot of things so very dear to my heart including the death of a friend that same year, my longtime confidant and mentor, Dale Elliot . I have friends place stones on his headstone for me to let him know he’s not forgotten. Perhaps I’ll return one day to enjoy its special beauty…

September 2008: Odd where life takes us. I thought of this today. But not without reason. The man for who part of this post was written about is again a lover of sorts. One who I am temporarily living with in Hawaii. His 2 year relationship dissolved a few months ago. And while I’m not glad about his pain with it, I am eternally grateful we have been able to renew our friendship in many ways. And for me that friendship and his love has helped me grow…

July 2010: I Find myself back here often. This time, to reflect on the death of Bobby Hill. rancher extraordinaire, friend, a man whose stories of days gone by (his family owned many thousands of acres at PCMS before it was seized by the Army), make me laugh, and made me cry. Some day I’ll share. It just seems a bit of a betrayal right now, for the stories he shared came with a promise of  cross-your-heart-and-hope-to-die should you ever think of sharing them. I’m pretty sure Joella knew he smoked every so often. Mostly because he always came to me for one.  But that was a sacred promise as well. I learned so much. Such reverence for the land and the people who loved it like he did. Because we did…

October 2011: Oh, Terry. I left you another message on your voice mail, buddy. One of these days Pam will listen to them all and get her wish. To know that we all loved you as much as she did. I’ll never forget, either. ~wink~