missed the shuttle, but fortunately there was one more, and then the shuttle driver took the road back behind the mountain, so i didn't exactly see juarez, except as a passel of lights across the valley for a minute. besides it was night; the plane had been an hour or hour and a half late, all due to some mechanical problem back in oklahoma or something. better to be late than up in the air on a plane with mechanical difficulty, but that's another post.

new mexico is wide and spreads out forever on every side, and the reason they call it jornada del muerto is because there's absolutely no water at all on this one stretch north of las cruces. my mom was heading up there to a park, camino real which sounds like it might be "real road" but is in fact more likely to be "royal road" according to my parents. so this park aims to preserve the old trail that started in mexico and came up through las cruces, through dona ana, and up the jornada to san antonio, and apparently the mexican side was more active, safer, and up here it was good luck buddy, take an extra bottle of water. indian attacks and nothing but wide, wide plain, nowhere to hide. when they finally got little arroyos to hide in (hide from the sun, mainly) they'd make a ranch and settle in for the long haul.

i'm late to get to my parents' place because the shuttle, for some reason, takes us out to old mesilla before it does me. out at old mesilla, the historic district, i see the setup of somebody who agrees with the desert landscape, the wide plain, the mountains in the background, the arroyo as homestead. even at night, the colors are stunning. in the day i take a long nap and tonight i took a long walk down a huge hill into the rio grande valley, beyond new mexico state university on my way back out to mesilla, but then turn around and go way back up the hill and back to base. i'm lucky, basically, that my parents are well enough and living their lives, providing me a place to stay and feeding me, still together, and we seem to be at peace together in this place; they are, at least, where they want to be.

i have a few conversations, on the plane, in the shuttle, and here, about the state of the world we're in, and the occupy protests, and how there's conflict here & there, and a sister is getting involved, visiting and talking to the protesters in zuccotti and environs. i have not decided whether or how much of this to report; it's history, unfolding in front of our eyes, yet i'm tired, and have other stuff to worry about; maybe later. back home, one gray cat (scroll down) has a new home; this is ash & i wish her well. her black cousin, he's hanging around a while, maybe we'll keep him. you reach a point where what you end up with, is a compromise involving what you're willing to tolerate, and what your aggressive efforts at improvement are able to accomplish. the world wins, in the end, because it survives, whereas each of us is tiny, in the big picture.