Beauty

Beauty of the HIGH CHAPARRAL,

By Michael Hayden/Takahashi    2012*

It had been a dry, dusty ride up from Santa Fe. It could have been worse, far worse, if it had not been for the camp he had made at Nambe Pueblo, with its hidden waterfalls, cool mountain air, and plentiful mountain trout. But more than that, it was the people, warm, curious, generous, and helpful in so many ways. I needed to mend a broken stirrup, the one on my saddle, a memorable result of a surprised grizzly, snacking on berries along the trail. Exciting very, but mostly, two scared animals, and myself, mostly amused.

The beauty of these high mountain valleys were in stark contrast to the vast open desert he had just crossed, something about this place reminded him of home, maybe it was the way that the young women of the pueblo would hold their hands over their mouths and giggle, never looking you in the eyes, just like home, home, would he ever make it back. Back across that sea that seemed to never end. How he missed the familiar feel of always seeing Mt. Fuji on the horizon, always there, a comfort, but more, something difficult to explain. Maybe he would find an answer out here, and maybe there were no answers, but this was his quest, he was almost there..

It was still cool from the sudden storm that had sweep thru the Aspens, chasing a flock of sand hill cranes up into the San de Christo mountains, He smiles, leaning back, while letting his nervous pony rest, he looks hard across the barren arroyo, to a low set Hacienda set into the side of the hillside, overlooking the trial from Santa Fe up north thru Chama on to Cortez and on to Pueblo, a long difficult trip at any time. He urges his pony on, as the day grows long in shadow and attitude. The sound of lite laughter echoes off the rocky bluffs that shelter the old stone veranda, part home, part horse ranch, and a way station, for the butter field stage in. And as it squatted, below the bluffs, it shimmers in the twilight of the setting sun.

The stranger slowly dismounts his thankful companion, turns and flashes a quick smile to the lovely woman standing there, fresh as the mountain air, so firm of chin and breasts. She offers him a large crock of tequila, and smiles sweetly, as she turns away from him. He is tall for these parts, long and leans like the desert trees that somehow manage to thrive in these dry highlands of northern New Mexico. He has journeyed far to find himself in this distant land, seeking answers to questions only he can ask, if he dare to disturb the sleepy tranquility of this most enchanting place. A place he could call home. A place where he would become known, in time, as the quiet one. He watches her walk away, noticing the slight tilt of her head; she reaches down, and grabs the flowing folds of her dress and spins around to look him full in the face. It's his turn to smile, gazing into her eyes, he takes a long sip of the sweet desert nectar, she stands frozen, and then spins again, fleeing into the hacienda, only to be replaced by another equally stunning, beauty. He thinks to himself, yes, this may take more time than he had anticipated. Yes, this could be a very pleasant stopover, pleasant indeed.........then he would find her, once again, as he always finds her, just another lifetime, another distant planet, another out of the way wine, tequila or gin joint, in a distant land, he has never given up, but with a smile he turns back....time enough to whittle some wood, soak up some lusty cactus juice, and dance the night away.

All those. Magical moments,

I have found that I love women.  The idea and the reality of that most magnificent of beings. The Ladies! First and foremost, my adopted mother, a soul of the ages, she thought me well, I understand the great responsibility inherent in motherhood, the effort required to produce worthy offspring, a dough ting task in these upside down times, it was always the love that mattered, in the final accord, thanks mums, I will love you always, just as I know you are always there, out of sight but never forgotten.

But most of all, I love.......THE LOOK, that moment when two souls meet, mingle, and dance. When you can feel the energy, the ecstasy, the love that transcends the limits of time, distance or circumstance. A joining so suite, yet magnificent, so grand, so unpredictable, so magical. The pure pleasures of infinite coupling, mind to mind, body to body, heart to heart,, such a fantastic tango, the courtship of the heavens, from soft and fragile, to hard and strong, a force of nature, that one can only ride, like the summer winds, ever changing, always the same, oh God, how I love Women, I remember, each and every one, each one a jewel, each embrace a conformation of love,  Ladies, thank you for the love. Lord, thank you for the ladies, Senoritas, another bowl of tequila, tonight, we dance! He awoke in a swirling fog of dull pain and light, coughed and wished the last bowl of tequila had meet its fate in a manner more worthy than this, and now he lies under crumbling flagstone a jumble of weathered rock. It was that time of the year that brings out the best, and the worst in each of us. the dog days of summer were running down my throat, the day had barely begun, slowly creeping, like the memory’s, all these burning welts, something had disturbed his brief rest pit, his drunken stupor, yet the sun crept upon him, slowly, unrelenting, brutal, unending, in a simple yet fundamental way, when the spirit of the Sun speaks to you, you listen, you listen, you wait.  Each hour more unbearable than the last. Summer in the high Sonoran desert. A test of the vitality and juices that one longer come so freely, only to be lost to the unforgiving sun, as she whispers and laughs inside your brain, as the Sun beats on, baking half thoughts into a jellied mash of confused desires.

A breeze, the faint mist off some distant tidal basin, the smell of the sea, an iced beautiful beer, a hot sultry woman, soaked in her desire, glistening in the sun, seeking the shade of my diminished manhood, the only wood for miles, yes the brain does strange things to itself, when you know your fading fast, too fast for your heart, you just can't let go, after all these years.

Only the critters see the smile upon my face, waiting, watching, for that last movement that means that you are theirs, to enjoy at their leisure. So you think of anything that will animate you, as you stare into the eyes that only wait. Hungry they are, and patient, like the rocks where you lay, broken, dying, calling out for an angel...

That's when I thought once more of you, after so many years of forgotten, unfulfilled desire. Your face came back to me, as you stood there, looking down at me, as I lay in the shade of that lonely tree, then you smiled, reached for the strap of your silken slip of a dress, and let it slip so slowly to the dust. I stirred gently at first, feeling the cool wisp of silk slide slowly across my face as I gazed at the sheer beauty of you, god, how could I have ever, forgotten you, yet here you are, beckoning for me to come, back to you as if nothing needed to be said after all these years, yes, you wanted me, oh how you wanted me, just as I had loved you so desperately, all those many years ago. And so, as yesterday bleeds into tomorrow, as the shadows grow longer, the burning desire that was today slips into the night, still, the eyes are watching, patiently watching, as you slip, away into the night once more, leaving me alone to watch that once mighty tree, wither and die, in that sweet Sonoran highland, so far from the tidal shore. Yet she still waits each summer for a love that never died.

                                                                                     finis or is it?

   

THE SOLITARY TREE...and the beauties of the high chaparral.

Hope you enjoyed it,

this is ogntempe,

be safe, be happy,

BE HERE NOW...