That's about right

It was a beautiful day in El Rito. I hung my laundry up to dry on the clothesline outside. The wind was strong and blew my sweatpants down a few times. But they're sweatpants, so I didn't care too much.

The neighbors had a little community coffee hour down the street. There were a bunch of folks there, all from the neighborhood, some of whom I actually knew. There were little kids running around and good turkish coffee. I made plans with one guy to climb a mountain and with another guy to watch a movie this week.

I walked home and watched the late afternoon light hitting the Latir Mountains, which form the eastern wall of the neighborhood. I got a kick out of the little purple cactuses along the road. I wasn't sure if they had just popped up or if they were just covered by the snow before.

I got home and picked my clothes off the ground. A little dirty, but at least they smelled good.

There were a few moments in there today...a few moments that felt about right.

Now I'm listening to Gregg Brown's song "Spring & All" on repeat. I'm sorry for posting all these lyrics, but bear with me.

"Spring and what's left of the hippies return
from old rooming houses and Mexico.
More letters, more journals, more poems to burn;
Real heat at last. At last my words glow.

My friend Jim just broke up his band,
the guys all have jobs and the nights got too long.
He's selling the amps, one guitar, and the van.
I'm sure you could have it all for a song.

Snow on the north side, trash in the yard,
love like a newspaper tattered and stained.
A two bourbon twilight, fog from God's cigar.
the neighbor's retarded dog chasing the train.

Don't see any good in just hanging around,
take a tip from the birds and change the scene.
Find some long river and follow it down
to where our old sins have washed up in New Orleans.

Spring and what's left of the songbirds return,
to fight about loving and nesting and such.
Thanks for the letters you sent back to burn.
Their smoke is as light, and as dark, as your touch."