My Grandparents Home

Description

“On a winter night sprinkled with countless stars, smoke from burning piñon wood comes through the chimneys. My younger brother and I walk ahead of our parents, guided by the glowing moon rising over the mountains. We’re on our way to our grandparents’ winter home within the old walls of Taos Pueblo.

We are greeted by the sight, sound, and smell of cedar wood crackling in the horno with the promise of delicious bread and cookies. Later, wide-eyed, we will sit in front of the warm, inviting fireplace, listening to old tribal stories of coyote the trickster. I can still remember…”