Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do.  So throw off the bowlines.  Sail away from the safe harbor.  Catch the trade winds in your sails.  Explore.  Dream.  Discover.
Mark Twain

It seems strange to leave a place that one likes as much as I liked the Silver City area.

Silver suited me. It is about 30 years behind the country, protected by its isolation, and surrounded by wilderness. It is reminiscent of Vermont before the great migration of the 1990s. The people here could be grouped by demographics such as Hippie, Rancher, Latino, etc., and these traits probably do influence social groups. In other places I’ve lived social groups were insular, but not here. A warm, kind tolerance for differences unites these people. My neighbors are individualists, but warm, down to earth, and always helpful. My colleagues at work are wonderful. People get along very well here.

This old southwestern town of 10K people, home to Billy the Kid, Geronimo, and Cathy Williams/William Cathay, also has plenty of good restaurants and supports art of all kinds. It has museums, a 4-year college, and a hospital. We finally even got a movie theater! There is a grocery coop and a farmer’s market. Even little tiny Mimbres – not even a town, but a “designated census area” – has an organic store, all organic farmers market, and a good restaurant. One of my greatest joys was a respite from my water phobia. Flowing out of the wilderness area, my well water was spectacularly clean.  Testing also revealed it had the ideal amount of minerals, except fluoride was low.

Silver is surrounded by 3,000,000 acres of wilderness: the Big Burro Mountains, Little Burro Mountains, Gila Wilderness (the first designated wilderness area in the world) and the Aldo Leopold Wilderness Area with lakes, forests, mountains, the Mimbres river (which flowed behind my home) and the tail end of the Continental Divide. There were cliff dwellings and rich archeological and fossil evidence. There were several ghost towns in the area as well.

I have photos of the area at the end of this post, but they just don’t do justice to the beauty. Maybe it is just that my soul resonates with this area, but it seems so much more precious when I am seeing it than when I look at the photos.

The only downside is the Golden Compass level of dust – it truly is sin! When I visited Lili in Santa Fe (1979), I swore I’d never live in such a dusty place. Now I am sad to be leaving.

My reasons for leaving Heaven on Earth are to make my life manageable and to complete my bucket list. It seems that I am off to a good start with both.

Everything I own

All I possess did not fill this little 7×15’ (exterior measurements) truck & my car. I now have it all packed in a 10×10 storage room in Mesa AZ. That’s all there is, my friends!

Nate asked that I keep the photos, so they are all there. I have a few of the most sentimental pieces of furniture, the items that I bought from the yard sale on College St, and the rocks; pretty manageable! Of course there are spiritual and personality aspects to a manageable life, but like I said, it’s a good start.

My bucket list begins with visiting the most beautiful places in the USA, and I will see #12 next weekend. To celebrate the 100th birthday of our national park system, entrance fees are waved the next two weekends. I can hardly wait!!

This is where I lived amidst 3,000,000 acres of wilderness. I lived between two ridges of foothills with the Mimbres river right behind the house.

Mimbres House  from foothills annotated


This was my home. The tree in the upper right was full of humming birds in the summer who would hover at my winders to watch me. The part in the back (left) was built first and to the right in front was gotten free from the mines. The middle part was built over twelve years by the family. It was very whimsical.

The Mimbres House

This is the view from my yard looking toward the river. I am sorry I could not find one of the dogs playing in the river.

Mimbres Backyard


*So Long comes from the ghettoes of New York where irish, italian Jewish and Arab immigrants mixed together. Jews and Arabs always greet and say goodbye to each other by saying Shalom, Shalom, or Salaam, Salaam. These words were corrupted into solong, solong. Ultimately folks believed that it meant that it had been so long since you had seen someone. Not so.



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