Coyotes sing at night in the desert.
I don’t know if it’s their lovely wild ruckus or the very bright full moon making me restless tonight in spite of having soaked in my favorite Japanese style cement tub at my favorite bathouse, the Pelican, today.
Ten years ago, the Pelican was my first experience of this dusty little northern Chihauhauan desert town where I now watch the light change through the days, through the seasons, through the years.
I happened upon the Pelican when I needed overnight accommodation while visiting the Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge to experience the annual gathering of winter avian migrants: geese, ducks, swans, pelicans and cranes.
I was immediately smitten, not just by the hot mineral springs water but also the eclectic and unapologetically colorful style of the bathhouse motel with its merciful Quan Yin courtyard.
Now I have a bath pass.
Soaking in a mineral hotsprings bath with a view of Turtleback mountain goes a long way toward soothing the discordant noise of the day.
But not all the way. Not always.
Not all howling is singing.
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