I woke to a thin line of blue, outlining the Sangre de Cristo range to the east. That line grew and morphed into a blue/purple band. Then brilliant cerulean spanned across the valley, stretching to and past the Jemez range.
Chantha and Clara mustered at the crack of 8:00 ish. I shuttled the crew down the hill along Bishop's Lodge Road, through town, and to the market. Dropped them off at the front gate. I provisioned for the day and returned to our home to see the rest of the cadre off.
Dan and Ginger gathered their things and hit the road after a spot of morning coffee. Frank and Tiffany rallied and got out the door by 11:00.
I cleaned house. Washed sheets. Took a break. Then I drove north.
When in New Mexico, Santa Fe specifically, I try to take at least one day trip to Taos for a bit of hiking and soaking. The hiking was brief this time. It rained. Hard. I found a trail by the Rio Grande and took in a short hike. I found my way to Black Rock Hot Springs, just past the John Dunn low-water bridge.
I was alone. There was a family of long horn sheep across the river. They just looked at me and ate. They were safe and they knew it.
I took the chance to move through some poses for a good long while. Alone. In a hot spring. Yoga. Ice cold river. All good.