Grow old along with me

June 21, 2018 Vastness and elbow room for all There is an old gospel song that Iris Dement sings that talks about heaven having “50 miles of elbow room on either side to spare, and there’s room for you and room for me”. The south west of our country certainly has room to spare. On one hand I get somewhat bored with the arid, dry, ready-to-burn-at-the-slightest-spark, deserts that go on and on for miles. On the other hand, some of our fellow Americans live with the most incredible scenery of majestic rocks and “purple mountains majesty” in wide open spaces and I can see why they would feel cramped and crowded in the east or in cities. We have driven through many towns that you can about see the whole thing in a few minutes because there are no buildings over 2 stories tall, few trees, and the land is flat. I am guessing if you live in a town like that you kind of know everyone there after a bit? In Richmond, I can go shopping or walking for months on end wit

  "Brighty" was a burro deserted by minors in the Grand Canyon and friended by a small boy. He became a favorite friend of many children. Steve is reading "The Earth is Weeping" about the wars we waged against the Indians in the early days of this country and I am reading "I am the Grand Canyon" containing stories told by and about the Havasupai Indians who were finally granted a tiny piece of their land back on the top of the canyon back in 1974. We are struck by the audacity of most Americans who call this land home and the nationalism that some have, versus patriotism, and how ironic it is in light of what we did to the original owners. Especially interesting is how they saw the culture and religion of the new settlers. "The haygu  (white settlers) tear us from our lands and push us into moving and hiding. We live and die like rabbits now...The bear are gone; the deer are leaving... the Jizes (Jesus) is strange; he tells the haygu to go to