Hmmm

When I’m asked to jot down the first thing that comes to mind, it’s like someone has taken a million index cards of memories and spilled them onto the ground. There isn’t one — there’s literally an explosion of many. How to pick one?

But from this collage of blurred images suddenly one emerges, but it’s not a vision as much as a sound: the sound of the creek that ran by the mission we visited yesterday while in Santa Fe.

I love the sound of creeks. To me, it’s the sound of life. The voice of Mother Earth. The voice of god.

And since that creek involved a sunny day on a travel day with my soul mate, and since it was just yesterday, it is the one index card whose corner was sticking out just enough from the million index cards of my memories that it’s the one that I picked first from the pile.