It was not lost on me that this visceral force of resistance, this headwind, was much like the seemingly immovable resistance within the communities to the east of New Mexico's central mountains, my community, my home. I knew that willful resistance was necessary. It was protection to steel generations of farmers and ranchers against the harshness of our fickle and extreme climate. So it should be no surprise that strong retreat from change was necessary, perhaps inevitable. This seemingly immovable force, this resistance to moving forward - I was feeling it so directly as I drove looking for ways to raise money and acquire grant funds; whatever I could do to change the dismal decline I saw slowly strangling my beloved communities. And what was I meet with - a willful wind and closed roads.
I turned around. I turned back and drove all the way home to my mountain sanctuary. Like an eagle I flew home on a magical tail wind. It took no time at all and the symbolism stared me in the face. I'm staring back. I just have to change the wind! And soon my beloved East Mountains will be dotted with brilliant swaths of golden sunflowers, circles of green growth and the rich beauty that is my New Mexico.