teotihuacán, valley of mexico

After having reached its peak of a quarter million residents, this once thriving and diverse metropolis was abandoned around 750 CE, but it was never lost or forgotten. Because of the enormity of the pyramids, some 600 years later the Nahuatl-speaking Mexica peoples assumed the site had to have been built by the gods, and so they named it Teotihuacan, "The Place of the Gods."

Temple of the Feathered Serpent

Pyramid of the Sun, one of the largest structures in prehispanic mesoamerica. Aligned with the mountain beyond.

Pyramid of the Moon, as seen from the Pyramid of the Sun

meuse and muse

While reading Sally Mann's new memoir, Hold Still, I learned a word of such beautiful precision: meuse. She writes, "When an animal, a rabbit, say, beds down in a protecting fencerow, the weight and warmth of his curled body leaves a mirroring mark upon the ground. The grasses often appear to have been woven into a birdlike nest and perhaps were indeed caught and pulled around by the delicate claws as he turned in a circle before into rest. This soft bowl in the grasses, this body-formed evidence of hare, has a name, an obsolete but beautiful word .  .  . Each of us leaves evidence on the earth that in various ways bears our form . . .

Since reading this I have been thinking of my father-in-law, Mike, and the day that we drove to southwestern Virginia then hiked up the mountain to the cabin where he had lived for 35 years. I stepped into the world of Muse--memory and inspiration--with his impressions and traces of life lived with fierce creativity, focus, and devotion. Poignant evidence.

I remembered the photos I took on that day--his birthday--two years ago July. It was days before Shadow, his beloved labrador had died, and she, with her sharp memory and enthusiasm prevailing over her ailing hind legs, beat us all to the top.

denia, joel & david (the cutest little boy ever)