300 Days of Sunshine

Summer is here and the fires that ravaged much of New Mexico's landscape have dissipated.  We had a lot of rainfall in June and our National Forest re-opened in time for summer hiking and adventures.  Back in May I started running more consistently after a long hiatus, and a friend talked me into training for a trail half marathon in July.  I haven't done a trail race since the BC era (Before Children...) and I knew this training would require a lot of rearranging of my schedule and a greater commitment to running than just short jaunts around the neighborhood, but I also knew that if I wanted to get back in shape I needed a goal to work toward.   My first Santa Fe trail run of the summer was a 4-mile loop around Borrego Bear Wallow at the end of June.  It was a warm and sunny morning and there wasn't a single car in the parking lot when I pulled in.  There's something so magical about having the trail to oneself!  The forest initially seems so quiet until you adjust yo

During the pandemic we had the amazing opportunity to buy property at the ski resort in Breckenridge, Colorado.  We are so thankful to have this "home away from home" just 5 1/2 hours away from Santa Fe.  Breckenridge is most known for its skiing, of course, and we were able to take advantage of late season snow when we were there at Easter time, but we have discovered how beautiful and vibrant the city is in other seasons too.  When I envisioned traveling with my kids, I always dreamed about seeing the world and embarking on new adventures every year while at the same time having a regular, drive-able, go-to location where we can create memories and establish traditions and continuity, and I think Breckenridge will be just that for our family.  Especially during the past two years when travel has been precarious and unforeseeable, I feel so blessed to have a place where we can travel safely and enjoy the outdoors. We took a weekend trip to the resort at the end of June, wher

Stone Mother, by Tanaya Winder I was born in the desert learned to cherish water like it was created from tears. I grew up hearing the legend, the lesson of the Stone Mother who cried enough cries to make an entire lake from sadness. From her, we learned what must be done and that the sacrifices you make for your people are sacred. We are all related and sometimes it takes a revolution to be awakened. You see, the power of a single tear lies in the story. It’s birthed from feeling and following the pain as it echoes into the canyon of grieving. It’s the path you stumble and walk until you push and claw your way through to acceptance. For us, stories have always been for lessons. It was a spring of grief and sadness in New Mexico as forest fires ravaged hundreds of thousands of acres of land.  Homes were burned to the ground, lives were lost, and sacred land that has been a part of the culture and the identity of this region was damaged beyond repair.  The Calf Canyon/Hermit's Peak