The days of 2014 are almost gone.

As each day concludes, it flies off the calendar like a free bird. What started as a novel is now looking like a memo.

Today, I climb a trail that runs in open space in the Albuquerque foothills where we hiked as kids. You follow the trail and it takes you around a  knob of a hill called Star Mountain for Christmas lights that used to be strung on it in the outline of a star.

Some people have the gift of memory. They can close their eyes and remember events just like they were there. Others of us have to write things down.

When I travel people ask what is wrong with the place I am from.

I  tell them ” nothing ” which is mostly true most of the time.

It is just that my feet get itchy and travelling is the only thing that scratches them.

My Uruguay, Costa Rica, Florida trip is in the bag. California, Mexico, and Arizona are dead ahead.

 

 

 

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