abigail vera

New Orleans, LA

Galveston, TX.

San Antonio, TX

Tombstone, AZ

Collecting music for my upcoming road trip.  Any suggestions?

This gave me goosebumps.

Oh those desert skies…

Yellow knives are for girls.

Sabino is in bloom! Oh Tucson how I will miss thee! (Taken with Instagram at Bear Canyon Trailhead)

I dwell in Possibility -
A fairer House than Prose -
More numerous of Windows -
Superior - for Doors -

Of Chambers as the Cedars -
Impregnable of Eye -
And for an Everlasting Roof
The Gambrels of the Sky

Of Visitors - the fairest -
For Occupation - This -
The spreading wide my narrow Hands
To gather Paradise -

[Emily Dickinson c. 1862]

Home-made banjo. Patchwork carpet. Dirty feet. I could get into this.

[National Geographic: Exploring America’s Backcountry]

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet’s wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.

[W.B. Yeats c. 1897; The Rose]

“Tropical vegetation cannot well be described; but the fact that even when seen it is hard to understand, need not prevent an attempt to sketch the general features. The real trouble that meets the novice on the threshold of the tropics in the utter inadequacy of the English language to express the variety and luxuriance he sees in the vegetable world. Even in color his vocabulary fails him, and he must include in the name “green” so many distinct tints that at last he relinquishes the difficult task and falls back upon the commonplace epithets, or leaves his tale untold.”

- William T. Brigham, In the Land of the Quetzal. 1887.

I miss Guatemala.