Summer in the Great Southwest

The summer in Wenham had been uneventful. Hot and humid weather for most of July 2019 slowed down the pace of life. Weeding lagged in the garden. Most summers I have been able to tame the flower beds and spread a handsome layer of dark brown mulch. This year, I couldn’t keep up with the crabgrass and so it spread vigorously after each rain, choking the garden and the brick path to the front door.

At the end of the month, I left the garden with its coral gladioli in bloom to head to the airport. Santa Fe seemed an odd destination in summer when the ocean waves of New England are here to refresh us, residents and tourists alike.

I had signed up to attend a conference in Santa Fe with the intriguing title of Creativity and Madness, an annual event for psychologists, therapists, and psychiatrists to earn their Continuing Ed credits. This year, my partner David presented a lecture and conducted a workshop for his colleagues based on his book, The Art of Balance: Staying Sane in an Insane World. No one I know disagrees with that characterization of the times we live in.

But first I spent three days in 110 degree heat in Phoenix with the western branch of my mother’s family. My beautiful Aunt Shirley and my cousins hosted me in the style of visiting royalty.

At age 92, Aunt Shirley is the last one standing in our family’s greatest generation. She was and continues to be petite, stylish, and an Elizabeth Taylor look-a-like. I enjoyed her stories of breaking three engagements until she finally met my Uncle Joe, a long haul trucker, through a random introduction at a bicycle repair shop. On their first date, he told her, “I’m going to marry you.” 

I waited at the gate for my short hop from Phoenix to Albuquerque where David was flying in from Boston. Was it a rendezvous with the high drama of a lover’s meeting under the Grand Central Terminal clock? No, it was a coffee shop in the terminal, but It felt something like that propitious meeting as we looked forward to a week in the City of Enchantment. Aunt Shirley would approve. 

I envisioned the interesting week ahead, sitting in off-beat presentations such as Mozart: The Mind and Music of a Genius and a staged re-creation of a couples therapy session with intermittent commentary. I took notes and hoped for a brief respite from the summer news cycle of political strife, weather disasters, and separated immigrant families at the Mexican border.

I traded in my T-shirts and jeans for Santa Fe style: flowing tops, long and colorful skirts, sandals, silver bracelets and beaded necklaces. I looked forward to blue cornmeal pancakes for breakfast, quesadillas served on a plate covered with grilled corn husks for lunch, then watching couples in Western dress doing the Texas two-step on the dance floor at the LaFonda Hotel.

The week proceeded with enchanting moments indeed. After the day’s conference session, David bought a cowgirl hat for me. I bought him a leather belt with a handmade silver buckle. We sat in the Plaza at dusk for some people-watching before dinner.

Sadly, extreme violence in El Paso and Dayton broke the spell. I messaged my high school/college friend who lives in El Paso but did not hear back from her. On our way home, at our layover at the Denver Airport, I felt exposed to danger in the crowds of people moving through large open spaces, even though we had all gone through security checks. 

The Plaza in Santa Fe—or any open public place—doesn’t feel safe anymore.

On the night flight home, I closed my eyes to imagine the beautiful places and spaces we had seen in Arizona and New Mexico—Ghost Ranch where artist Georgia O’Keeffe lived and worked, the iconic Pedernal depicted in her art, the mighty river as seen from the dizzying heights of the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge, a harrowing drive on narrow mountain roads to a hidden monastery, the Big Sky with its astounding cloud formations moving over the mesas.

As we descended into Boston at dawn, the sparkle on the water brought me back to coastal life again—the green landscape, the busy harbors, beaches filled with children building sandcastles.

Two days later I heard from my El Paso friend that she and her family were safe.

This country has it all, in summer and in every season. May it be united and safe once again. 

Photo of Pedernal by David Bookbinder