Acknowledging Ken (Kesey)
The water runs out of the high mountains through the sacred Blue Lake like a slender ribbon. Unlike the firs and the lumber camps to the clean, clear air tumbling into huckleberries and blueberries and blackberries, and flattening out lower into rhododendrons, the ribbon meanders through ponderosas, piñons, scrub and sage into the Pueblo cleaving the village into halves. I would write stories about Spirit here, at the base of Taos Mountain, Mahwahlowna.
~ Stephen J. Bergstrom