I realize the tag on this site says “Dispatches From A Writing Life” which is a very idyllic-sounding sort of life to have. I also realize I have said very little about it, so here is a peek.

One of the ways I process experiences is to write them down in a journal. Sometimes my journal entries are clever and witty. Sometimes they are contemplative or insightful. Mostly they are things like what I had for lunch. But, whatever I manage to get on the page, the important thing is that I write something (I wish I had been writing the cost for a gallon of gas with each fill-up since January – that would be interesting).

When I arrived in Bandelier I was delighted to find a picnic table just outside my casita.

THIS, I thought, is a perfect place to write! It has a bit of shade and a lovely view of the canyon walls rising above the structures of the historic lodge. At sunset the escarpments, burnished with the last light of the day, are a rich ochre hue. At my first opportunity, which was after a very busy two days of orientation, meeting lots of new people, and stocking up on groceries, I was ready to relax into what would be my new ritual. I changed from hiking boots to flipflops. I gathered up my journal, my pen, and a fresh, ripe peach, traversed the few feet to the table, and sat where I had a perfect view of the sun-brushed cliffs. Yes! I said to myself, This is the writing life! And it was, except for one small detail….

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They made it readily apparent that I was most UNwelcome. So now, my pen, my journal, and my peach join me at the end of each day as I write from the confines of my casita, screened windows and door open to the evening, but not the ants.

Cartoon ant and the other kind courtesy of clipart-library.com