The casita at dawn as I head off to check a shadow.
Up and down the interstate: a souviener shop at every exit.
Making a list and checking it twice.
Between the casitas. Two historic buildings. Nobody in the other one.
Home sweet home. Front door on the right end. Looking East.
Nest under the entrance porch.
Sun breaks the horizon at dawn on the interior wall.
The unending zen of washing dishes.
View back through the kitchen.
I could load film at night in the bathroom after blocking the window with a piece of foam core and closing the door AND turning off all the lights in the rest of the house. Very comfortable quarters. We kept a sharp eye out for spiders and killed a few flies that came in when we left doors open during the day. Simple, with no art hung anywhere. The house is a piece of art. I worked in the mornings and afternoons. Ate lunch, ran errands and took a nap during mid-day. Read my way through "Footfall" and "Crossing Open Ground" by Barry Lopez. It surprising how busy the time is. Constant job to work, rest, hydrate, travel here and there, hike, eat, resupply, check mail and internet, load film, wash laundry...all while running around at 6000 feet. AIRs aren't really about rest.