miss the myriad of birds that flocked to
my oasis and the shade trees where the
birds would nest and find sanctuary.
I will miss the overwhelming smell of
creosote in the air after a rain and see-
ing the red velvet mites crawling
around after a soaking downpour. I will
also miss the captivating scent of
blooming white brush several days after
a good rain. Although I see this desert
flora in El Paso, I will miss cultivating
my Casa Piedra cactus garden with its
ocotillo, lechuguilla, yucca, agaves and
rainbow cactus.
I will miss the quiet. The incredible,
deafening quiet. With that quiet I
became very in tune to the subtle
sounds of insects, of birds songs, of coy-
otes howling in the distance and of the
wind. My time with nature in Casa
Piedra was a great education. I learned
that most bugs, snakes, and
quadrupeds are more afraid of me than
I should be of them. That they simply
want to get away from a human pres-
ence as fast as possible. I gained a
healthy respect for sentient beings and
their struggles in their harsh environs.
I will really miss tarantulas. Truly. I
think they are beautiful creatures and
have long adored them. I know they
are around El Paso but I doubt I will
see one in my house as I did last June.
I will miss my 360-degree unob-
structed view of the horizon. I will miss
the epic sunrises and sunsets my view
afforded me in Casa Piedra. I will miss
moonrise and moonset on the desert
horizon. I will also miss seeing incredi-
ble thunderstorms in the distance and
the way cumulonimbus clouds change
from pale yellow to peach to rose and
crimson during twilight.
I will miss going days at a time with-
out getting in my truck and driving
anywhere. I do try to adhere to this in
El Paso - making a point to not drive
anywhere a few times a week. But the
Big City is too tempting. Too much to
see. Too much to buy. Too, too con-
venient.
I will miss the desolate roads: the
Casa Piedra Road, the Pinto Canyon
Road, and the River Road. I will miss
Chinati Hot Springs. I will miss the
annual Terlingua Music Bash in
October. I will miss lovely little
Boquillas, Mexico. I will miss
Balmorhea. I’m so very glad I was able
to enjoy the heck out of those magical
waters.
I will miss the fact that the folks at
the bank and post office knew me by
name and greeted me with a smile. I
will miss how certain servers at the
restaurants I frequented in Marfa knew
my “usual” by heart and would bring
me my meal rather than a menu.
I will miss my weekly music practice
with my dear friend, and mandolin
player, Paul Graybeal. Paul owns the
Moonlight Gemstones shop in Marfa
and in my humble opinion, is one of
the hardest working artists in town. I
will miss living in/near an ‘Art Town’
and the fact that the region attracts
artists and feeds an artist’s sensibilities.
I will miss Art Walk (always Gallery
Night, in my mind…) and Chinati
Open House Weekend.
Oh the music... I will miss the jam
sessions with my fellow musicians
whether in Marfa, Alpine or Terlingua.
There were many a rousing gathering
with guitars, mandolin, banjo and an
occasional fiddle, viola, keyboard and
even accordion. I will forever miss the
weekly Marfa Music Jam I began in
2003 that gathered at several, now
defunct, Marfa venues including: The
Holiday Capri Hotel, The Brown
Recluse, Marfa Coffee & Wine and
The Q Cafe.
I will miss my neighbors in Casa
Piedra, as I knew all dozen or so, very
well. We could count on each other in
a pinch. We looked after each other,
our property and our pets. I have no
idea who the dozen or so folks who live
on either side of me, or across the street
here in El Paso, are.
There are a few things I will not
miss. Most of all, I will not miss the bur-
den of maintaining every aspect of a
house and 10 acres, by myself out in the
middle of nowhere - an overwhelming
task, I assure you. I will not miss
conenose beetles or rattlesnakes on my
porch. I will not miss feral hogs tearing
up my yard. I will not miss the March
winds. I will not miss being stuck at my
house because Alamito Creek is run-
ning high. I will not miss the pipeline. I
will not miss going through the Border
Patrol checkpoint every time I drive
north. I will not miss the slackers. I will
not miss small town drama.
I will certainly visit my old stomping
grounds, when I miss the things I miss
too much. But, as it seems, even when
places and events are in our own town
or right down the road, it’s simply easi-
er to stay put when you are blissfully
happy to call a new place your home.
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Cenizo
Third Quarter 2017
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