I'm in Taos, NM, somewhat overwhelmed, a little sapped and on a computer that's nearly out of battery.
By the acequia, across the river from property once owned by Donald Rumsfeld, the birds seem to know the tyrant has left. A couple of wrens play some sexual game, a hawk searches for breakfast, maybe; the beavers are somewhere else doing whatever.
Yesterday I read to a few classes of elementary kids--Hispanos, as they call themselves, and to Pueblo tribe kids. The topic was ending racism, the atmosphere was warm and the faces were brightly brown.
I'm resting. It's Friday, but there's no cerveza around. This week, Saturday will have to be my Friday.
The battery's almost out. Entonces, es todo, hoy,