Monday, January 16, 2012

Couchsurfers in Town

I had fun tonight by getting out of the familiar. I went to Body Cafe and played Bananagrams with two couch surfers, Ben and Mary Pearl, who are staying with us right now. They are an inspiring pair, traveling across the US building greenhouses out of trash, wwoofing (willing workers on organic farms) and creating a documentary film. When Body closed, we went to the Underground bar at Evangelo's. I don't think I've been in there since my very first summer in Santa Fe. It was just great to sit and talk with them and a few other girls, one of whom lives in Santa Fe now, but went to college with Mary Pearl in NC. I felt light-hearted. The journey is meant to be enjoyed. The thing about being on the other end, hosting couch surfers now, is getting to see sights for the first time again through their eyes.

When I stepped outside at the end of the evening, big, fat snowflakes greeted me on a deserted W San Francisco St. Simply magical, reminding me in another slant how I love Santa Fe. I am grateful to still see it freshly after a 3 1/2 year on-again, off-again relationship with the place.

Earlier today I went for a lone wander hike in the Santa Fe Canyon Preserve at the end of Canyon Rd. It was my first time on that particular trail. I laid on one of the observation benches for a while soaking up the sun and looking at blue sky through bare branches. Putting myself out there in the unknown heals, as simple as that.

Couchsurfers in Town
Seeing Santa Fe again,
As if for the first time,
Through their wide eyes,
Freshly re-opening mine.
Feeling alive in the unfamiliar,
Like that original summer,
Of wounds healing,
Forgetting and letting them be,
So immersed in exploration,
And knowing new people,
No need to pick at scabs,
Just enjoy the freedom.
Stepped out of the bar,
To snowflakes smiling down,
And the remembrance came,
This snow is falling in Santa Fe,
For the first time in this way,
The only instance it will,
Ever arrive quite like this,
Unique to the moment,
Touching the lives who notice,
Different from flurries before
Or snow to come next storm.