I’m in Santa Fe.
Wait. Was that a twit? Am I twittering?
#1. I’m getting off the plane in Santa Fe.
#2. I’m walking down the concourse, looking for the baggage claim. (Later, I would find that TSA had SEARCHED my bag, rearranging all the contents and generally squishing and messing everything up. Searching is fine. Squishing and tearing are not.)
#3. My person, along with my carry-on and my great, full of squished things orange bag, is being forcibly sucked out of the concourse into Fiesta Gifts (the most dangerously seductive airport shop I have EVER seen).
#4. I am picked up on the curb by two VERY handsome male people – a dentist and a goof.
End of twit.
——-=0=——
Here is part of the reason I came:
The light in Santa Fe: the view from my room.
And from the front windows.
But here is the heart of it:
The beautiful, tired mama and her friend, Sandy.
He’s wearing the suit his Aunt Chaz found for him: luckily, it has scratch-proof hands on it.
The many faces of the duck-footed baby.
He is a very sober, philosophical kind of person when his eyes are open.
Mama ties on Max’s gee (is that how you spell it, Chaz?) –
Eyes open, but not too sure about what he’s seeing.
Eh? Come again?
And that’s why I came. After all, I had to bring him this:
Are you grinning? I am.
30 Responses to ~: The heart of it :~