flare ups

loneliness of the open road
Just returned from Santa Fe where I took the new Toyota for a service check -- the front fender panels had mysteriously flared out. I learned that apparently someone had bumped into the front of the car, no dent, but the panels are designed to flare out on low impact -- I thought the car was falling apart! They were effortlessly snapped back in place by Carl The Manager and the whole thing took about 5 minutes.  So I mooched around Santa Fe for awhile and happily drove back, windows open, Mumford and Sons loud on the CD player and no one to talk to for almost two hours! I love driving alone on open roads. I do it so rarely that it's a treat. And I do love those Mumford guys! Speaking of open roads, last night after the reading at the Harwood Museum with Phyllis Hotch, Demetria Martinez, and Leslie Ullman (below) the sky opened up and a thunderous rainstorm hit.

Leslie's new book of poems: Progress on the Subject of Immensity (UNM Press) is fabulous! She has been my writing partner at coffee shops and my craft partner at the Yuletide Festival with her "Bead Poem" necklaces made from natural materials -- a multi-talented woman who is a professor emerita of creative writing, still teaches at Vermont College of Fine Arts and also teaches skiing at Taos Ski Valley in winter!

The rain poured down and by the time I reached my car I was drenched. But it felt so good, chill and all, and there was something magical about the wet dark streets, the damp smell and the unexpected bit of joy that seeped into my heart -- what I haven't felt in a long time.

This is what you've longed for,
drops tapping the shingles
and the silent flowering of each word.
     (Leslie Ullman, excerpt from "Don't Sleep Yet")