Yesterday was my glorious gift of one more day. I savored sharing this wonderful place with my supportive and patient husband. He came here to keep me company on the long drive home, not realizing that once he was here I was home already…. But, my turn here is done and there will be a new AIR for October who will get to enjoy the cozy comforts of the casita, the marvelous park staff, and the canyon arrayed in fall splendor. I am grateful to Bandelier National Monument for having an Artist-in-Residence program, and for choosing me to be a part of it. I loved my time here. I learned much, gained a keen appreciation for what keeps a park open and welcoming to the public, and appreciate the chance I had to be part of this place.

An important component of being an AiR is to have some public-facing activities. One of the things I did was conduct some mini-workshops with park visitors. That was fun. But my favorite thing was to invite people to write something about their time here in the park and then share it. I created some prompt cards that made it easy for them to write micro-fiction or a poem to be shared and displayed in the park. I chose this because I believe that taking the time to write about a place we are in or that we visit adds a dimension that enriches our experiences. Taking pictures with a cell phone or buying a souvenir at the gift shop are good ways to remember a place, but writing connects us in a way that other things do not. Writing invites us to reflect, to think about details, like temperature or the feel of the breeze, that don’t show up in photos. I hope the writing that people did here will become part of their treasured memories, and I also hope that they will want to write more about places they go and things they experience. Here are a few of my favorite submissions:

Like it has for other visitors, the Bandelier entrance sign has disappeared from my rear-view mirror. But this month will linger in memory for a long time. It will show up in things I write, and in ways that I look at the world. The canyon is not much changed by my presence in it, but I am changed by its presence in me. Thanks for sharing my journey. And, just in case you want to do some writing of your own, here are the prompts.

When I arrived in Bandelier on September 1st, I knew I would have to leave on September 30th, which means I knew exactly my allotted time. Somehow, knowing a fixed date makes each day seem valuable and precious. And, as those days draw to a close, it is natural to wish for one more hour, one more afternoon, one more day. So I asked if I could leave on October 1st instead. My wish was granted.

Today was the gift of one more day here in this wonderful canyon. One more day to drive to the Valles Caldera, hoping to see some elk and maybe hear them bugling, something I had been hoping for all month. This morning, that wish was fulfilled.

One more day to spend time at the Visitor Center, enjoying the Rangers, the people, and the Pueblo Revival architecture.

One more chance to hike the Tyuonyi (QU-wee-neh) Overlook Trail, seeing sunset in the canyon from the mesa.

One more night to watch the sun sink below the horizon, watching stars prick the growing dark one by one, until finally the Milky Way spills itself across the sky.

Every day should be treasured as if it were that one more day. One more day to hear the voice of someone we love. One more day to hold someone’s hand, hear someone’s story. One more day with a sweetheart, best friend, parent, child. One more day to see how small we are in the vast expanse of space and yet how precious each one of us truly is. One more day to pray for peace, work towards understanding, to care for our little blue planet that sustains us all. One more day to see the world for the wondrous miracle that it is, to take time, even for a moment, to be grateful, to stand in awe-struck amazement that, even in the worst of circumstances, we are here, alive, and full of light.

It is the 29th of September, my penultimate day as the Artist in Residence here at Bandelier National Monument. It has been a marvelous month, rich with experiences, sights, sounds, and the wonderful people here that have made my time so rewarding. With all that I have been able to do, there is still more to learn and understand. For example, I would like to know more about the endangered species here:

I was lucky enough to get to observe at the bird banding station. I was amazed at how quickly the bird banders worked and how careful they are to keep bird stress at a minimum. An experienced bander can band a bird, determine species/sub-species, age, health, feather condition, size and weight in less than 2 minutes. Bird banding helps to track migration patterns, species frequency in a given area, how birds are feeding, and whether or not a bird species is increasing or declining. Studying birds can help understand the impact of fire, drought, snow levels, and other climate phenomenon. It is a very interesting science.

This is just one of the many marvelous opportunities I have had during my time here. I am deeply grateful to all the people who have shared their knowledge, expertise, and most of all, their time. It has been a truly remarkable experience.

Fall has arrived on the Pajarito plateau. Aspens on the higher elevations of the Jemez mountains to the west and north are gracing the hills with brilliant spots of color. The grasses in the Valles Caldera are fading from greens to a variety of bronze and brown. Here in the canyon, where the walls provide shelter and hold a bit of heat from the sun, colors are just beginning to turn. The tops of the cottonwoods along Frijoles creek are burnished with a touch of yellow-orange. The aspen outside my casita are shifting from summer green to autumn gold. Nights are cool enough for a cozy fire. Though I can’t light one in my fireplace, smoke from the campground drifts down, bringing with it the distinctive spice of pinyon, a hallmark of cooler weather. This is a lovely time to be in New Mexico.

As mentioned in a previous post, I have an injury. It has had an impact on my time here in Bandelier. There are things here I simply can’t do, like climbing 140 feet of long ladders and stairs to Alcove House.

It is the sort of activity that I would have had on a long list of must-dos, checking each one off and moving right on to the next one. I have often done that, especially when I was younger. It is fun. Exciting. Adventurous. Instead, I am learning to appreciate a slower pace. Alcove House is amazing. I have been there before and really wish I could go again. But instead, I stay at the bottom and enjoy the vertical view. I see delight on the faces of people who make it up and back. I notice how the light moves across the rock.

The interplay of light and shadow in the canyon is fascinating. The colors shift and change depending on the time of day or the clouds. It is wonderful to have time to observe and appreciate.

I have spent a lot of time on the nature trail, sitting on benches or walking slowly and observing. I listen to the chatter of the El Rito de Los Frijoles (Little River of Beans) which at its best is more of a sturdy stream than river. At this time of year is mostly a lively trickle. It is the main water source for the canyon and is one of the reasons early human habitation here was successful.

I also listen to the wind as it moves through the trees. The sound can be very different depending on the type of tree. Leafy deciduous trees, such as cottonwoods, rustle in the breeze. Evergreens like the ponderosa pine whisper or sigh. [There is a word for this – psithurism : the sound of rustling leaves or wind in the trees.]

I have had time to observe the hummingbird moth. It really does look like a tiny hummingbird.

Birds are plentiful and there are many types here, from large birds of prey like hawks to small ones, like the white-breasted nuthatch, one of my favorites.

One of my favorite canyon inhabitants is the Abert’s squirrel. It’s long tufted ears and luxuriant bushy tail are distinctive and also very cute. I take great delight watching it scurry and scamper. I have seen it in lots of places, but it favors the ponderosa pines which are its shelter and its food source.

Slow going has been more fun and more interesting than I thought. Give it a try sometime – you might like it!

I have a long-standing affection for hiking, backpacking, and exploring the natural world on foot and independently. I also am a big fan of the National Park system and all the opportunities and experiences it offers. When setting out for adventure, it was my habit to find the most challenging trail, destination, or activity and make sure I conquered it – the tougher the better. I was dismissive of paved trails, easy hikes, and car camping. But, once I had a family, I realized (through frustrating and tearful trial and error) that maybe there was some merit to campgrounds with facilities and came to understand those easy trails were a perfect way to introduce little ones to things I cherished. Of course, kids got older. Things went back to being more challenging. And I went back to trying to be 20-something though I could plainly see that I was not. Even now, I overlook injuries, surgeries, natural aging, and my status as a plump, cookie baking Grandma.

Which is exactly how I got into trouble in Zion National Park, Utah just prior to my time here in Bandelier. I made the rookie mistake of overestimating my capabilities. I hadn’t planned on a hike but we came to a trailhead that I remembered and knew led to a spectacular view. I had optimism. I didn’t have hiking boots. I didn’t think about an unstable ankle. I didn’t calculate the change in elevation over a relatively short distance. I did have trekking poles and a hat. I figured that was enough. It wasn’t. I took a nasty tumble. I injured that already unstable ankle. I severely inflamed my patellar tendon. I got some spectacular bruises from all the rocks. But, as I painfully made my way down the trail, I realized that what I had been trying to do was maintain the idea of being “outdoorsy.”

That idea is based in large measure on what we are told and shown the ideal outdoorsy person is – young, able-bodied, athletic, lean, tanned, adventurous, and never ever content with being average. We are inundated with messages about these people. They live in tents and wear water sandals or hiking boots. They have the latest in outdoor gear and gadgets. They drive Subarus and shop at REI. They have obedient dogs that wear bandanas and backpacks. They plan wilderness treks and white water rafting trips. They have the luxury of leisure time. They are not too skinny and certainly never fat. They are never old and never wrinkled. They are mostly white. These messages leave very little room for all the rest of us, which is most of us. And, sometimes these messages create real barriers. For example, as a plump cookie-baking Grandma who also likes to hike and camp, it can be really hard to find good outdoor clothing that fits. Many outfitters don’t carry plus-sizes, and the ones that do tend to relegate it to one or two racks back in a corner with very few options. Regrettably, sales staff can be dismissive of people who are older or disabled. It can be embarrassing and sometimes discouraging. But–

–don’t give up or give in to unrealistic ideas or expectations! It’s good to know your limits, but don’t think that just because you can’t do everything you can’t do anything. That’s not true! If you love the outdoors, speak up for your needs and wishes. Ask for clothing that fits. Support accessibility options. Look for places that match your capabilities – there are lots of levels of difficulty, from wheelchair accessible to rugged wilderness. Don’t be afraid to hit the trail (or the hiking path or a stroll around the park) – here at Bandelier I have seen people of all ages, abilities, genders, colors and cultures out and enjoying this wonderful place. You don’t need a lot of money – a good pair of shoes or boots, a hat, and clothing that offers sun protection can be enough. Look for places you can fit into your time and your budget. You don’t have to go far. National, state, and local parks, forests, lakes, rivers and other recreation areas are closer than you think, and often budget friendly.

Be wise. Learn from my mistake. Try not to get into trouble in Zion or anywhere else. If you see me out and about, stop and say hello.

The Artist-in-Residence program gives visitors to Bandelier a chance to meet and engage with different kinds of artists. Today I had the opportunity to teach some mini writing workshops here in the park. I enjoyed having the chance to share my craft and encourage participants to use writing as a way to connect with this wonderful place. But, the AiR program is not the only chance people have to connect with something new or different. One thing Bandelier does really well is engage with local Pueblo communities and invite them to come here and share their history and culture with us. These are called cultural demonstrations and they are very interesting. They help visitors connect modern pueblo cultures with the ancient Tyuonyi (pronounced QU-weh-nee) culture that lived here in Bandelier through traditions that have been passed down intact over centuries.

Over Labor Day I had the delightful opportunity to get to know two lovely people from the pueblo of Santo Domingo, Harvey Ross Abeyta and his wife Priscilla Nieto. Harvey is a flintknapper. He works with obsidian, chert, and agate which he collects himself, often from sources that were used by the early inhabitants of Bandelier and other ancestors of his tribe. He knew from an early age that he wanted to learn this traditional art. Though he is a master flintknapper, there is always someone that can teach him something new and he enjoys the challenge of learning.

Priscilla makes beautiful jewelry. She learned this art from her mother and has passed it on to her daughter. She does a lot of work with turquoise and can tell just by looking not only what kind of turquoise a stone is, but also which specific mine it came from. I learned that turquoise is primarily a by-product of mining ore. Green turquoise comes from copper mines and blue from silver mines. Priscilla is a prize-winning artist, including a Best of Show from the prestigious Crazy Horse pow-wow.

My time with Harvey and Priscilla was rewarding and informative. I learned many things about their families, including tribal leadership, US military service, and some of their traditions. I also came to understand that there are many thing that I will never learn because they are considered sacred and not shared outside of the community. Perhaps this is why the traditions and practices continue to bind this culture to its roots with an unbroken thread.

For information about upcoming Cultural Demonstrations in Bandelier National Monument, please visit their website: https://www.nps.gov/band/index.htm

Bandelier has a research library! It is small but full of all sorts of books on lots of topics such as Bandelier, archaeology, park history, natural history, human history, New Mexico, Pueblo cultures, children’s books, fiction, poetry, and others. I was hoping to find something about my grandmother. I did not, but I did borrow a few of the books. And, while I was there, I took the time to compose a few book spine poems. Please enjoy 🙂

1.

2.

3.