¬  As I go back to the village ( Taos Pueblo ) where I grew up I see remnants of haying equipment, each year becoming taken over more and more by the plum trees and various weeds that creep in as worked land becomes feral again. On one hand these remnants remind me how little importance we actually have, no matter what we build nature will always take over if we neglect it, but on the other hand it lights a fire in me to work harder, to reignite the flame that was once lost.

These remnants were my Grandfather’s ( Lupe Concha ) and are scattered around the property I grew up on, but by the time I was born Lupe and family had already stopped working the land. I was never able to learn how to farm/ranch from him, something he learned with/from his father and so on, but like a seed I can feel that knowled...