Late January on the Animas River in Northwest New Mexico. We’ve seen the big birds perching in trees, swooping down to the river to catch fish, and soaring away. Look for tall trees next to the river and listen for a noisy murder of crows hoping to share in the bounty of the hunt. The unbusy trail in the morning cold is best. Look up. Someone may be looking back at you.

Don said, “I feel like something is looking at me,” as he crashed through the underbrush to find a Georgia O’Keeffe moment. What was it she loved so much about skulls? The clean lines and uncomplicated evidence of a life completed perhaps. Not a distrubing reminder of death, but a symbol of moving forward into a different future. Happy New Year from our trail.

The trail poem Moving On has taken its title seriously and gone ahead to the Somewhere Else. I like to imagine that the creature who lives in this hole down the way decided to take it in. Who knows? The poem was set free so I wish it a good journey.