Mountain Air



I sip my coffee, hug the cup for its warmth and peer outside the window at the New Mexico morning that is unfolding before me.  Early morning in The Land Of Enchantment, birds sing and the smells, new and unfamiliar refresh my mental issues, which seem to be more than usual. The warmth of the new day seems to signal me to try “my best this day to get with the program.”

Leaving Mama to her covers and the warmth of her bed, I walk across the street to a little cafe for some nourishment and conversation.  Another morning breakfast in a small town cafe on the edge of the horizon somewhere in time.  The waitress inquires if I am ready to order, she looks really tired and on the downside of life.

I nod my head in silent agreement and tell her “two over easy, bacon, whole wheat toast, small OJ, and make the hash browns well cooked.” Knowing full well, that I will most likely get what the recently released prison cook decides is good for me, and it might be close to what I ordered and it might not.

Eating on the road leaves a lot to be desired on most days, and this one, being no different is much the same. You buy your ticket and you take your chances, that kind of deal.

An old man sitting at the counter fishes out his cell phone and starts barking in it like a Carny at the State Fair, we are not in Kansas anymore Toto.  A few more pleasantries, I retire the ticket, reach into my pocket for a four dollar tip and I am out the door.

Briefly I stop to read the headlines in the paper box, even in The Land Of Enchantment, there is no good news.  I consider the cards that life has dealt me this day, and I seem to believe I am playing a winning hand.  The things that are negative and bad are somewhere out of reach, tucked back into some cavity of my mind, and my soul is at rest. I sigh a deep sigh and resign myself to having a good day.

The air outside is crisp and clean smelling, it is good to be here in the American high-desert.  Today will be spent in the big city of Lincoln, New Mexico, one of the last hurrah’s of Billy The Kid, curio shops and small town America.  Hopefully another fine day on the road, which I find, has been my pleasure to share with all of you.

Like the Postcard reads:  “Wish You Were Here.”