Winds of Change

Maybe one day we'll all discover what a nice place it really is to be, Someplace windswept, by the sea.

When the wolves are on the ridges and the cubs are in their dens, When we finally reach the place where the ancient river bends, Where a magick carousel greets the mermaids in their cove, and a dinosaur or two stands waiting near the grove. We'll be in a place called Lorelei, Someplace windswept, by the sea.

One day, a small group of women and their children arrived at the Pueblo. They discovered a caretaker, a small school building with a teacher's desk and student desks, and a few houses. Upon their arrival, the children discovered a letter on the teacher's desk in the schoolhouse signed by the "High Priestess." The children took the letter and quickly ran out the schoolhouse door to find their mothers.

Once, at the foot of a desert mesa, there was a pueblo that was as dusty and dry as an old woman's skin. The desert was mauve and the sunsets were painted in pink, violet, rose, and purple hues. Cactus grew there, along with lavender, sage and orange creosote. An occasional desert rose could be found with a female Cougar nearby.

A few months ago when I was planning a survival strategy for Santa Cruz, my aunt Rosemary offered to keep watch along the coast while I waited out the "winds of change" at my Santa Cruz beach house.