Pecos Pueblo:
 Ruin That Still Speaks To Us

   Its Sunday morning. I am standing on a broad bench of land in the Pecos River Valley. I can trace Glorieta Creek below by the string of golden-leafed cottonwoods. The Pecos is farther east.

   A half moon lies like a mother of pearl shell in the flawless, silken blue tapestry of the sky. The sun is unabated by clouds.

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On The Trail of Pat Garrett:
Marking the 100^th Anniversary of His Death

   February 29, 1908, a leap year like this one, started warm, as it often does in southern New Mexico. And though it was Pat Garrett’s last day alive, it wasn’t the beginning of this story. The story actually began some time earlier.

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