They come in large flocks, squaking and whistling, diving down to the wall and then all swooping back up to the tree, then back again to the seeds scattered along the wall and the courtyard. They are crow sized but not solid black. They are boistrous like crows, but not all black. I have been searching for their names but not yet certain. They stay a half hour or so, flying up, flying back, all a mess of wings and chirping, and they manage to clean out the bird feeder even so.

I looked to see if there was an Our Lady of the Birds but couldn't find one. There is an Our Lady of the Rock and Our Lady of the Sea and of Guadalupe and of Sorrows. I don't know which one this is but it is typical of the art of Northern New Mexico. The old churches are filled with the statues, called santos and the paintings on wood, called retabolos. Isn't she beautiful? She sits in a small niche in this adobe house and watches over us.

The art of New Mexico is very often Catholic and we frequently see the different depictions of Our Lady of Guadalupe, in churches, painted on buildings, in tiles installed by gates and over doors and in courtyards. She is the Mother of the poor and adored by peasants in Central America. She is always shown with roses because that was the miracle she used to convince the Bishop that she was really behind the message to build a church.

Every once in awhile, God actually makes it a point to speak to somebody in no uncertain terms. The children in Poland, the peasant man in Mexico, Noah, St. Paul falling off his donkey, Mary herself, and a few more. Others get silence. I have often wondered why that is. It doesn't always seem to be connected to the purity of one's life. Is it random? That seems too wierd. But I wonder what are the criteria.

I for one, have not heard the booming voice. But when we wanted to find a house in Santa Fe that was out on the land, this one perfect house showed up. And when we gulped and agreed to the cost, someone wonderful showed up to rent our house for three months, covering the biggest expenses of being here. Is that God? Is it the result of when you follow your heart?

We followed our hearts again this winter to New Mexico. We are perfectly pleased with this part of the world and this spot of land the house sits on and we love the windows and the sun pouring through them, warming the saltillo floors.

Thank you, hearts. Thank you, God.