When I was in elementary school, I used to walk home every day to prepare my own lunch. My teacher, who lived nearby, also walked home for her noon repast.
One day, I excitedly asked her if she had heard anything about the aliens who had landed in the Arizona desert. She looked at me a little strangely as I explained that a space ship had landed in the desert and had tried to make contact with the humans they encountered by drawing symbols in the sand.
Kindly, and looking at me with incredulity, my teacher asked how I knew it was true. “Because my father told me, so it must be true,” I answered. She smiled and suggested that I speak with him once again.
Some time after the invasion of Iraq, a group of concerned people in Taos, New Mexico gathered in a large field outside of the Philip Bareiss gallery. There were a number of speakers, including Native American, Hispanic and Anglos. Each was there to protest the new war.
Huddled in our coats and sweaters against the crisp fall mountain air, I listened, heartened that so many had come out to express their opposition to the war. Afterward, there was a march down the main highway with the usual banners and signs, mostly homemade. People in passing cars and trucks waved in support. The crowd of protesters ran the whole gamut, from young people to old hippies. I was one of the old hippies.
When the marchers headed for the home of Donald Rumsfeld, who’s had a place in Taos for many years, I joined them. I wondered how we’d be received. We stopped in front of the entrance. Some protesters were interviewed by local and state TV and radio. Others greeted old friends they hadn’t seen for years. There were a couple of nicely dressed, big men standing close by. They didn’t smile, but the crowd was pretty happy. Surveillance cameras were busy accumulating photographic evidence of who was there.
And now we come to the woo woo part.
When the film was sent back to the labs in Washington to match our faces against the ones they had on file from days long gone by. Suddenly, the lab techs looked at each other in astonishment. After almost 35 years, one petite woman hadn’t aged at all – she looked exactly the same!
How do I know this is true, my children ask me, their eyes wide in wonder? “I heard it directly from one of the lab technicians.” I tell them. My children believe the story, because their mother told them it was true.
Susanna Starr, author*, entrepreneur, photographer and artist resides most of the time in a small community near Taos, New Mexico and part time between Oaxaca and Laguna Bacalar, Mexico (where she has fantastic and abundant tropical gardens).*Fifty and Beyond: New Beginnings in Health and Well-Being (www.FiftyAndBeyond.com) Her new blog is: http://50-and-beyond.blogspot.com/