I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain.
I’ve seen sunny days
that I thought would never end
– James Taylor

Yesterday I drove by my old homestead in Carson, New Mexico. There was an iridescent magpie perched on the branch of a dead tree in the middle of a stark, vast landscape.
My house burned in a tragic accident a very long time ago. We lost everything.
The Chinese elms are still there, stark dead branches reaching for the sky. Without the run-off from the roof there isn’t enough water for them to survive. We stayed on the mesa after the fire for several years in a renovated horse shed.

Taos peaks are visible in the back ground 20 miles to the east. The glory of the landscape was sustenance. We were trying to save the world, living very simply, one sustainably built house at a time. Excess water was not a problem. Water sufficiency was.

Last week the rains nearly washed away our gallery, and a lot of the rest of Vermont. It was the wrath of Irene.

The floods scoured the park next to us, washing out trees, plantings, my stone walls and garden in the front and along the side. Muddy water poured  down Route 7 destroying buildings and caving in the asphalt of the main central thoroughfare for Vermont.

Miraculously our interior damage was minor. Only an inch or so got in through the side door. I think we should rename our gallery The Ark.

It’s been hard being here in New Mexico with a group of Castleton students while so many of our families and loved ones are going through such difficulties at home. Even the college has suffered greatly with flooding and major damage to the new student center. The towns have rallied incredibly to restore what has been destroyed. Brandon did a phenomenal job. Simply amazing.

Fire and rain. The forces of nature. Relentless, powerful, random.

Nothing to do but set up my studio here so that I can use the time I have available as effectively as possible.