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See Sandi's WILD Blog below, Or click on the photo of Sandi and Tiwa on the right to go to Sandi's Blog on RedRoom.com
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Saturday, January 12, 2008
The Wonderful Way it Ends and the Wonderful Way it Begins!
Christmastime. There is already a good
layer of snow on the sleepy little town when we arrive, softening everything. The round-edged, red-brown adobe walls and rooftops
are lined with farolitos (also known as luminarias)—paper bags filled partway with sand in which a candle is anchored
and lit, giving a soft yellow glow. These days, many of the household farolitos are the electrified kind, but there are still
many roadsides here lined with the old-fashioned sand-and-candles variety, and the plaza in the center of town is also decorated
with a lavish display of these. On the Solstice, snow begins falling and continues through the night, adding seven more inches
to the thick, white blanket that drapes every contour in the landscape. The cottonwoods, willows, and giant elms still have
leaves hanging from their limbs, and their snow-lined limbs create white lace silhouettes against the sky.
We have come to Taos and Santa Fe to celebrate this sacred season with Pueblo friends and family, to witness ancient
rituals, and to visit dear friends. Walking in the town of Taos, or on the square in Santa Fe, our wolf Tiwa attracts crowds
wherever we go. Shopkeepers consider the wolf good for business, as he always brings people in. At Tony Whitecrow's holiday gathering at his deerskin art gallery and shop, the guests feed Tiwa meatballs made according to a generations-old
family recipe that Tony has spent more than a day preparing. And my new friend Harvey Bear Track gives me an unexpected assignment
in medicine work which brings me great joy and harmony.
We celebrate the solstice with dinner at a
newly-built resort with incredible architecture honoring the uniqueness of this area and its three cultures. The valets are
upset when we won't let them park the car but rather insist we will do it ourselves. They assume we're too cheap to
tip them, when in fact we don't think they should try to drive a car with a wolf they don't know waiting in the back.
Here in this newly-built structural marvel, the entry lobby is a round, kiva-like space with a rock-art spiral carved into
the roof, and in the center of the spiral-pointing down at us as we look up-is an enormous crystal, perhaps a foot across,
and more in length. Three-foot-high split geodes sparkle with purple crystalline points on either side of a warm fireplace.
The walls echo the adobe look with stucco surfaces and rich textures. The food in the dining room is good—appetizers
of soft lamb flautas and portabello raviolis are the stand-outs. The dining room is nearly empty, and we watch the snow fall
through dozens of small square windows in a high wall. Unlike our Colorado mountain vistas, here the snow-scene is shaped
by the limbs of many deciduous trees, not just conifers. The sight is soft and lovely and graceful to behold. After a sumptuous
feast, we think of leaving...until we hear the band warming up in the bar. Amazing jazz, and just a handful of customers to
witness and enjoy. We stay and tap our toes and feast all our senses in this magic night in this beautiful new place that
embraces and echoes much that is old.
We finally buy a painting by Stephen Kilborn—we have wanted one for years! It seems to have been made precisely for the story of WILD SORROW,
the third in the WILD Mystery Series, the one I am finishing now.
At the pueblo,
our young niece and nephew participate in the dances, and we are proud to see them carrying on their traditions. And our hearts
are filled with joy to see our all-grown-up nephew BJ, home on a short leave from the Army to be at the pueblo, where we share
time and many hugs and smiles with him, and with all our family and friends here. We take in the Christmas Eve procession,
the bonfires, the gunfire, the singing and chanting. I hurry to touch the hem of the Virgin's dress as She is carried
through the plaza of the ancient village. Around the towns and villages of Northern New Mexico, Hispano families are enacting
La Pastoral and La Posada, two traditions of their culture and religion.
We stay at a lovely old bed
and breakfast where the innkeepers work tirelessly to create perfect hospitality, delicious breakfasts, happiness and comfort
for their guests. Next door, a group is having a Metanza—they have butchered a pig which they are roasting.
Tiwa romps in a snow-filled field with the innkeepers' dog, and even Buckskin, our Missouri wildcat, goes for a walk in
the white powder with us.
And an amazingly talented and accomplished photographer named Steve Buettner (whom we met at the inn) has found an extraordinary Christmas shrine in Rinconada, on the way between Santa Fe and Taos:
a concrete truck lit up from stem to stern with strings of colored lights, a reindeer perched upon the hood, and a large likeness
of the man who owned it in the window-thus honoring his life, his work, and his unique memory at the holiday. (See the photo
and two others of Steve's on our website. This surely can only happen in Northern New Mexico!)
On
Christmas Eve, the moon glows full, and red Mars leads the huge, shining, silver orb across the sky. Mars is Red Bear, the
War God. There is much ceremony to be done on such an auspicious celestial occasion.
Warm fires, moonlit
walks in the snow, ritual and ceremony, and sharing love and joy. It is a wonderful way to end-and begin-another year.
See some of Steve Buettner's incredible photography on our website, and contact him with your comments
and interest by clicking here.
And it's back to Colorado and back to work. WILD INFERNO releases
on February 5th, and the launch party on the 9th will be an exciting event. The tour will be extensive, and the manuscript
for WILD SORROW must be finished before!
Hoping your holiday season was as full of
spirit, meaning, depth and delight as ours. Happy New Year, dear friends and readers! Joy!
9:39 pm mst
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sandiault.com Copyright
2009, Sandi Ault, All Rights Reserved Music by Sandi Ault,
Photos by Tracy A. Kerns and Sandi Ault unless otherwise stated All Rights
Reserved www.sandiault.com contact@sandiault.com
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