essays

Water and Me    

Since I am a real estate broker, or yet more importantly, an human being living in the desert, you might suppose that I would write about water rights, scarcity of water, aquifers, conservation of water, and the politics of water, as these are issues of great importance to us all. But right now I am thinking about my personal relationship with water. Water is sacred, I think. It is the beginning of everything, and without it, it is the end of everything. We came from the development of a single cell in some kind of liquid and here we are, largely water ourselves, and in need of it to keep the blood flowing.

I’m thinking more of the spiritual importance of water. My relationship with water could be something like prayer. Not sure. I was just watering the gardens, standing out there with the hose, the dogs jumping around in the spray, the sparkle of the drops on the plants, the robins flapping their feathers, bathing in a momentary puddle, close-up views of hummingbirds that seem to be attracted by the flowers receiving water.

In our casita in San Miguel, we have a fountain in the patio garden. I love the trickle of water. I watch the drops move out over the stone and drop into the water below. I like to work to its sound, sleep to its music. I have a swimming pool here and I love the velvet feel of the water on my skin, watching the swallows skim it for bugs. I love our one big frog that we keep removing from it but he always finds his way back.

I grew up walking the beach, collecting sea glass and shells, throwing bread to the seagulls. I thought I knew them by name -- Mike, Old King Cole and many others. My grandfather used to whistle to them. I can hear him now. Mike would wing in from somewhere to grab the bread. I didn’t know there were hundreds of Mikes, every day a new Mike.

Now I am in New Mexico. My water opportunities are mostly in the courtyard. I think, dream, play and observe near water. I find solace in water. I find myself -- even in the courtyard. When the wind blows hard and a couple of drops of rain come down, I feel I’m on the coast with the waves pounding the rocks sending me messages -- about eternity, I guess. I don’t know, but I think so.

Lucy Noyes is co-founder of La Puerta Real Estate Services, LLC, 505-867-3388 outside Albuquerque, New Mexico and has a million stories in her head, just waiting to get out.

Got a 400 word essay you'd like to contribute? Click here.