Suddenly on that 80-mile drive home, I had company. His name was Luther.
It was summer in New Mexico and the time of the monsoon. I was returning to Santa Fe after spending several days alone out at sister Kate’s country place baby-sitting her cats while she traveled. I had experienced some stormy weather–spectacular cloud formations, thunder and lightning, and heavy rain. After the dry times and with the greening of the landscape, a new perspective and new possibilities seem to germinate.
That came to pass when the character named Luther imaginatively joined me on the drive home. I immediately knew that he was a cattle rancher on land near the little town of Estancia, and something important had happened there during the monsoon season. As I drove onto my own property, I also knew I would write Luther’s story. It wasn’t like I was going to make it up; day by day, I was going to record what I was shown.
That was 10 years ago, and the experience left me with a new perspective on the masculine that I referred to in my previous blog on patriarchy. I have made a few revisions during the ensuing, very busy years but never made a concerted effort to get Luther’s story published. I shared it with family, and even though my brother, the horseman, sportsman, and veterinarian, really liked it–a wonderful validation–I didn’t know what to do with it, until now.
I suddenly realized that Luther’s life related to my previous blog and also to the Memorial Day events all over the country. Everything is about timing, and the moment had finally come to share the story of “The Cottonwood Tree,” which changed both our lives. I hope you will like it.