Number Twenty-One

About one year after I moved to New Mexico, I learned the following within one week: My uncle died, my godson and his family (part of reason in my moving to NM) were moving to Boston and the job for which I had worked 12-hour days designing and pushing through both local and state government no longer existed. Two months earlier, my cousin, who lived in NM and with whom I enjoyed spending time, had also died.

I moved to the desert partly to encounter myself and explore my own, inner desert. This was a good beginning.