88 – Spring, Volcano, Hanging Out in Town, Pamela’s Studio

The kind of Saturday where one wonders how long the volcanic dust cloud will last, where I fill my suitcases with everything I don’t need anymore.

I don’t feel like taking pictures.

Catch up with the blog? No, never mind.

Should I make a lengthy to-do list or let time flow on as if nothing was changing?
Better to end the day with joy than with guilt.

Going to the beauty salon, a way of taking a bit of Taos with me in my hair. Today, there’s another stylist , blonde and slim. Caroline, the Spanish girl who was pregnant last time, gave birth three days ago.

People stroll through the springtime streets wearing T-shirts and shorts. In the space of three or four days, the trees are turning green, and colors are replacing the monochrome of winter. The days are getting longer so fast.

I visit Pamela’s studio, we promise to stay in touch, we won’t see each other in Taos anymore.

 I print the picture of the rainbow to give it to the people in the red house under the arrow

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