Dispatch from the Edge

By Peter Anderson 1. One winter afternoon in 1974, I knew how good a hockey goalie’s life could be: skates sufficiently dull to slide around in the crease (but sharp enough for stability and precision), pads snug and riding well on legs, good light and clear vision though the eyeholes of a fiberglass mask, glove […]

Read More

Dispatch From the Edge

By Peter Anderson “How long are you going to be around?” my 13-year-old daughter asked Hester who was ringing up our groceries at the Mercantile. Some years ago, Hester, left town for a while after her husband died. More recently she returned and now has her old job back. Though I don’t know for sure […]

Read More

Dispatch from the Edge

By Peter Anderson It is the gleaning season. Somewhere in the Bible, he recalls, the farmers leave the remnants of their harvest for the hungry. It is still so for those who know where to look. As the high aspens begin to turn, the sandhill cranes circle above the valley before settling into some shallow […]

Read More

Dispatch From The Edge

By Peter Anderson I tell her I need to replace the glass top of an electric range. I tell her how the bear broke into our house, stood on top of the stove hoping to find some goodies in a nearby cabinet, and fell through the glass instead. “I understand,” says the woman on the […]

Read More

Dispatch From the Edge

By Peter Anderson We are in a library in a small mountain town. Another late spring storm has just arrived, bringing with it rain, hail and several inches of new snow. A traveler who has pitched his tent at the campground outside of town sits in this library looking at the weather through big windows […]

Read More

Dispatch From the Edge

by Peter Anderson Road weary after the drive up from Page, I stop in Kayenta, near a handmade espresso sign on a sheet of plywood, and I follow the arrows – coffee this way – through an opening into a courtyard and into the Blue Shepard Coffee Shop. Try a cool, refreshing Nava-Joe, says another […]

Read More

Dispatch from the Edge

by Peter Anderson Wolves had never been a presence in my life. I had never lived around them, so I didn’t know much about their biology or natural history. Then, early on a November morning about 10 years ago, a chance encounter here in the Sangre de Cristos changed that. I have never talked much […]

Read More

Dispatch from the Edge

by Peter Anderson In October of 1960, I saw Nikita Kruschev ride by in an open car, waving to a hostile crowd of onlookers. Kruschev, the leader of the Russian Communist Party, was on his way to a Long Island estate where Russian diplomats from the UN occasionally stayed. I remember him as a portly, […]

Read More

Dispatch from the Edge

By Peter Anderson Dear Griz, Old Route 66. The Mother Road on the eastern edge of Flagstaff. Near the Great Wall Chinese Buffet, Bubba’s Real Texas Barbecue, and Purple Sage Motel (American owned), we are sitting in the customer lounge of the Econolube. An oil change is rarely just an oil change for this old […]

Read More

Dispatch from the Edge

By Peter Anderson Dear Matt: Sorry I missed your wedding. The East Coast seems further away than it used to. And I’m sorry I haven’t met your honey. Now your little boy is two maybe three and soon you will be driving him to school. When you were here, I was carrying Rosalea up the […]

Read More

Dispatch from the Edge

By Peter Anderson The Free box outgrew itself. Now it’s a shed on the edge of town, roof rimmed with windworn Tibetan prayer flags, old mattress leaning up against front wall spray painted with the words “No dumping.” The cardboard box from our garage contains some lightly used fairy wings – still the rage in […]

Read More

Dispatch from the Edge

By Peter Anderson Eastbound clouds stall out over the high peaks of the Sangres. Others, low and gray, drape the big valley sky to the west. It is a restless season. I imagine the bears are on the move … such a fierce hunger before the big sleep, and the rose hips are ripe. A […]

Read More

Dispatch from the Edge

By Peter Anderson Around our house, some of the biggest piñon and juniper trees I’ve ever seen offer us a little shelter from the wind and weather that often blows in hard from the southwest. Nearby, a little to our south, a line of aspens that follows Crestone Creek down the mountain adds to our […]

Read More

Dispatch from the Edge

By Peter Anderson I live on the outskirts of Edgetown (aka Crestone), barely into the old Baca Land grant (now Baca subdivision), at the end of suburban and the beginning of wild, just east of a creekside riparian zone, on the high end of the piñon juniper and the low end of ponderosa, on the […]

Read More