Peace of the parrot and the chickens

I am returning to Dallas from a visit with my brother James and his wife Jeany.

They live on nine acres in Los Lunas, a small town outside Albuquerque.

However, their home and the acres that surround it seem worlds away from Dallas. We gather eggs from the chickens and cook them for breakfast. We sit outside in the evening, and it is much cooler than Dallas—and much quieter. You can see all of the stars in the sky.

Inside, the parrot sounds just like my brother James—or just like the microwave or telephone.

In Los Lunas, I am surrounded by dogs and cats and chickens and turkeys and guinea hens—and I feel at peace.

Now I’m trying to bring some of that peace back to Dallas with me.


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