I love to breathe in the crisp cool air as I walk outside of my house on the reservation of Nambe. The pure cedar trees still grow here and there and always seem to smile at me as I relax in my front yard. Not to far, maybe about 100 yards from my house is an arroyo. The arroyo is rather large and floods greatly when the storm clouds come rolling over the sleepy mountains and open their soft wounds to let the moisture smoother the earth below. I always love to walk in that arroyo. I can walk down it to get to my fiancées house, or walk up it to explore the hills.
Home will always be on the Nambe reservation. In the subdivision called “Frost Road”. I love the summers here on my native lands in the valley of the eagle’s mountain, which in my native language is called Tseh Ping. I spend the evening tending to the herbs and fruit trees that I grow. In the early mornings, time is spent at the field where the blue corn and sweet corn grow. Come harvest time the corn will be made into Chicos and corn meal, a tradition that my father has taught me. As I pull memories from my mind I think of all the things that make home what it is.
My home is a land scape always ready to be explored. I can walk from my house all the way up into the mountains, to the place in the pine canyon where the two rivers meet. This land is special to me. My native people sing sacred songs about nature and spirits, those songs have their own place in my heart and body. I remember going to the pueblo plaza to watch the dances, or even hearing the drums from a distance while I sit outside in the playful breeze.
Long ago my ancestors settled here on this land and ever since then this is where I have stayed and will always be.