a work away day. longish one. and on the way home, i stopped at the little grocery, Supermart, and walking out to the parking lot see an elderly man getting into a truck with the Cement Sand and Gravel sign on it's door…A-1 Sand and Gravel. so i went around and asked him, the difference between gravel and crusher fines. he was, as people ARE here, very interested in my question and very willing to take however much time to answer me. he wanted to know what i was going to DO with the gravel? listened intently all about the Goats, their path, their sleeping shelters, the low area on the Other Side where the truck was sitting stuck. crusher fines he said. and more, COURSE crusher fines. and he said "you can trust me. all my life i have hauled stone. it's what i know". so. ok. and if we were wondering about taking on the 3x/wk Alz. B responsibility…well, it buys 10 tons of crusher fines plus delivery. so, ok. and getting Home,
the first thought was to do Nothing or take a nap. but this is an example of what having the Goats has done for me. it has enlivened the NEED to Just Go. so….i dug the rear tires out, put pieces of bark under the tires and…..TaDAA! OUT! and now that area can dry up some so i can have the crusher fines delivered. and Then, i thought, do nothing or take a nap but….why Waste a completely beautiful and DRY early evening, so….
Chinche and i hopped in the truck and went to see the river.
for a few years, she has diminished. just a week ago, she was sand. wet sand. but sand. up further north, on the Isleta Pueblo, they call her the Blue Mother. Blue Mother has been reduced to sand mother by the stealing of her beingness for water use. both in New Mexico and cubic water feet sold to Texas years ago. she was sold. she was Reduced. enslaved.
today, she flowed. all mud colored and blue and there were flood plains like in the old days. like, but not real flood plains, but enough Like flood plains. it brought tears. and as we stood on the bridge across her, me and Chinche, now and then other cars and trucks would stop. people would get out and stand, looking. silently. looking at our River. she is no longer the Rio Grande of old, but today she was Big. a Big River. in spite of us all.
windthread 
Leave a reply to kathyd Cancel reply