The beginning

Here I embark on a new adventure.

I was born in Fort Stockton, Texas. A friend observed, when I was struggling to elucidate why I was thinking of returning to West Texas, that there is a physical phenomenon regarding the rods and cones of our eyes. They become accustomed to a particular horizon early in our development and, as we grow, our eyes are always looking for that first horizon.

I have lived in a place full of trees and skyscrapers all of my adult life. I loved it, but my eye was always pleased when a sunrise or sunset could be seen completely–usually high up on a freeway or in some break in the obstructions when driving. Dangerous, in traffic, but delectable. And the moon, as it made its journey across the dark sky, was sometimes visible through the trees and in spite of the city lights, but viewing it was a brief affair, with life calling one inside.

The land I found near Alpine is beautiful. The mountains are rugged, scrubby, and changeable, depending on the light. There is cactus and juniper and other stuff I do not recognize. And rocks. Lots of rocks. Mostly red bedrock that seems broken into pieces on top of the ground and is solid below.

The sky is also changeable. Brilliant blue, bright sun. Then clouds move in, sometimes stormy, sometimes white wispy long striations that slide across the blue background. When stormy, there is lightning that scares me to my core and then rolling thunder. Dramatic. Intense. Exhilarating. I find the horizon fits my eye.

The land is purchased. Next, the building of the house.

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