My first few nights in town were spent at the Windsor Hotel. It was like sleeping in a mansion all to myself. The snow was falling, the roads were empty, and I stared at the old Weiss block wondering if this place could be my home.

Soon after I moved into a friend’s house and started finding my way around the neighborhood. The pastor from the church across the street invited us ice fishing, and gave a loaf of bread. I found a piece of property, and made an offer that was graciously accepted.

Christmas came only a few weeks after settling in. There was a parade of decorated vehicles and a stunning array of fireworks that I enjoyed from the comfort of the living room. One of the largest windows in the house faced the mountain from which they were launched. I have never been so comfortable while watching a live fireworks show.

Living in a small town feels like living in the front row seat of life. Things are clear and tangible, everybody knows what you are doing, and you are eye to eye with the action so you can't look away.

And it is just so cozy. It’s been a long time since someone delivered gifts and cookies for no reason or relayed a phone number without an area code. It is enough to melt the heart and lull one into a parochial haze.

It's also increasingly rare that the backstory, the "back in my day", the historical who, when, and where is both known and shared in detail. In Del Norte, everybody knows the contours of the past, and everybody wants to talk about it.

There is a fine line between a historian and a gossip, and we are all threading the needle! I hardly read the news anymore, there is far too much to catch up on in town.

After a month or so, I began to hope I could settle here, and worry I wouldn't. I just had to be able to walk to the bank and to the post office. I simply must have a craft brewery two blocks away. I really do need to be able to wear heels in the wintertime and walk to and from a divine, white tablecloth, 9-course wine pairing dinner.

Living in Del Norte feels like a quaint neighborhood in Manhattan with high quality residents, absolutely drowning in trees, mountains, and wild desert terrain.

To be clear, I mean this as a compliment. I am one of those freaks who loves New York City and would live there if it made sense. I do realize, however, that this is a decidedly unpopular opinion in the wide open American West.

In contrast to Manhattan, there is a deep humility to life in the San Luis Valley. Maybe because the weather is always a few short minutes away from turning on us, so we have to look out for each other. And for reasons still unexplained, people smile and wave, and are always there to lend a helping hand.

People tend to stay farther apart in densely populated areas. Is it the more space we have, the closer we can feel?

It is easy to overlook the value of knowing your neighbor’s names and feeling confident the house is looked after without having to ask.

All I know is I miss this place when I leave, and sometimes that's all that matters.

Small Town Living

To, Mark Jones