Yours Sincerely

you with intimate glimpses of their past accomplishments. Take Jack La Mar, who has established a trailer park just south of Parker Bridge on the California side. After knowing him for five years, we learned that he had been a real, true-life private detective, working on some of the most involved crimes ever cooked up in the Los Angeles crime cauldron. But now, after thirty years of adventure-spiked living, Jack's quite content to take a friend down the river in a boat and spend a whole quiet day trying to outsmart nothing bigger than those lure-wise largemouth bass!

As you become better acquainted with the people living SO happily here on the Colorado, you'll learn that many of them have finally realized a dream or satisfied a yearning to do something they have been unable to do all the long years before. There are the music lovers, the bird fanciers, the handicrafters, the rock hounds, the fishermen, the nature enthusiasts, and those who have always wanted to paint. One of these is Blanton D. Kinsey, whose work we saw and admired. Mr. Kinsey had known a busy life as a structural engineer, building in South and Central America, and along the eastern seaboard. But only in the last five years, since he put wheels under his home and found the banks of the Colorado River, has he really begun to enjoy just living. In this time, he has also discovered and developed a real talent. His unusual skill is painting on pottery, in glowing colors, the images of Aztec, Toltec and Mayan deities. Much of his work is done with the aid of a magnifying glass, and needless to say, is in minute and exquisite detail. His plates and vases and plaques have found their way into the homes of a number of west coast celebrities, and show promise of becoming even better-known. It is hard to say just where all this interesting coloniz-ing began, or who began it. If the credit can be placed, it probably belongs to Tommy Kinder. Tommy used to ride herd on the old ferry that transported travelers across the Colorado River before Parker Bridge was built. He grew up on the river, hunting, fishing and exploring. It was Tommy who chopped down the brush and made the first clearing for parking a trailer. That was only a few years ago. Now there are hundreds of such places along the river, each one occupied-making this area literally one of the largest trailer courts in the world. Perhaps Tommy is also responsible for the tradition of straight-from-the-heart neighborli-ness, the little kindnesses and sharing of pleasures that make this such a wonderful place to winter.

ing began, or who began it. If the credit can be placed, it probably belongs to Tommy Kinder. Tommy used to ride herd on the old ferry that transported travelers across the Colorado River before Parker Bridge was built. He grew up on the river, hunting, fishing and exploring. It was Tommy who chopped down the brush and made the first clearing for parking a trailer. That was only a few years ago. Now there are hundreds of such places along the river, each one occupied-making this area literally one of the largest trailer courts in the world. Perhaps Tommy is also responsi-ble for the tradition of straight-from-the-heart neighborli-ness, the little kindnesses and sharing of pleasures that make this such a wonderful place to winter.

If you decide to join the growing ranks of free-wheel-ing-home-owners who put chocks under their wheels for awhile on the river, you'll find encouragement and help here in doing whatever you have "always wanted to do: paint, draw, build, play, or just find a simple, happier life.

OPPOSITE PAGE "SALT RIVER CANYON" BY JOSEF MUENCH. Whether the water lies in still pools, mirroring the cliffs and canyon slopes, or running over little falls, this stream that comes from the White Mountains to store its waters in the dams of the Salt River Project is always an interesting one. Taken with a Graphic View Camera, 54-inch Zeiss Tessar lens, 4th second, f.20, sky filter.

BACK COVER "BEAR GRASS" BY JOSEPH MUENCH. This desert plant, Nolina bigelovii, mistaken by some people for a yucca, is more dramatic when in seed than in flower. It pushes up great stalks covered with yellow disks that merge into a golden torch, held above the narrow leaves of its rosette. Rather choosy of its home, it seems to favor this setting in the Black Mountains of Arizona, north of Oatman on U. S. 66. Taken with a Graphic View Camera, 54-inch Zeiss Tessar lens, ½ second, f.34, no filter.

WINTER STILLNESS Winter makes a pattern soundlessly replacing summer greens with snowy blankets, songbird symphonies with frosty glitter.

BORDER INCIDENT His noon day meal beneath his belt A dark-eyed boy strolls up the lane. Between his toes the sand is warm And coats his feet with buff-brown stain.

Yet something slows his languid step And something bids his brown head droop. A full content moves up his spine To snare him in its lazy loop.

And if she waits upon her son His mother now must call him louder, For Ramon sleeps beneath a tree, Warmed by sun and chili powder.

MASTER PAINTER God dips a pail of dust from the winds of yesterday, mixing it with lightning from a storm along the way.

Gently adds a dab of fog lifted from above the stream, with a touch of frost from a mountainside, creates a dream.

LOST AND FOUND Lost: an errant moonbeam The moment dawn woke up. Later: found with dewdrops In a cactus cup.

GOOD-BYE A nightingale's refrain withdraws, Then comes again-song-pouring; Recedes in blackly molten mauve, Returns in wine-blue soaring.

But when a nightingale at last Paeans a finished day, Stillness floods on all the pastNo song, no word to say.

Tumbleweed "A God-forsaken place" I heard him say; "A drab and endless space."

I looked to see But an errant tumbleweed In gay and graceful play Distracted me.