Travels with the Blonde Coyote

I’m always amazed by how well my dogs remember places and people on our travels. They never know where we’re going or how long it will take to get there, but they sure as hell know when we’ve arrived somewhere they’ve been before. Driving down the Turquoise Trail, south from Santa Fe, as soon as a we passed the distinctive gateway of rocks that flank the road at the Garden of the Gods, my dogs knew where we were. After a year away from New Mexico, when they saw those rocks, they both sat up and started wagging, panting and whining with excitement.

All week, I’ve been reveling in this land, revisiting rocks and trees, arroyos and overlooks, enamored by how well I remember where my paths run across this unmarked expanse. I wonder whether this desert remembers me. The ravens, the coyotes, the horses, the hares — do they see…

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