My first day and last day at my casita in Taos
Three months, two seasons, 90,000 words of a new novel drafted, one short story and three essays written, countless sunset walks and hikes and bike rides taken, many nachos and green chiles and potlucks eaten, several shooting stars wished upon, one supermoon rising over a mountain, ten new artist friends, six weeks of post-election fallout. Late nights and early mornings, the mountains, magpies, coyotes at night, a couple of skunks.
Going home to New York City on Monday. What comes next? A lot.