It works both ways. I welcome them, they welcome me into their lives.
Over the twenty-seven years I’ve lived in Santa Fe, many people have come and many people have gone. The high altitude here is difficult for some with breathing problems, and they often disappear into lower altitudes, but it seems to me the resilient remain.
Today, with ten or so inches of new snow on the ground and the temperatures dropping as the wind arrives, not many people are out in the streets and the sidewalks—when there are any—go unshoveled. The quiet is astonishing now when the morning parade of cars is stilled. I will go out after a while and see if it’s fit for walking or snowshoeing, probably not driving, since cars tend to slide through the icy intersections.
I’ve been looking through the pictures Seth Roffman shot of my Christmas Eve party, a tradition now several years old, which gives friends a chance to warm up and eat and drink before walking down to Canyon Road to see the farolitos. So many friends—as well as my Santa Fe family—came, giving me hope for a new year that will see changes for the better in all of us. I will be glad to see 2018, with its terrible loss, pass away.
I’m wishing everyone who reads this to look forward to the New Year, with friends, family, work, and most important, Hope.