The Stars, a Funny Story and Existentialism in France

Growing up in the wide-open spaces of the high desert city of El Paso, Texas instilled a passion in me for the sky and the stars. As a teenager, at times I would go out onto our top deck and sleep with the immense universe above me. During the peak time in August, the reliable Perseid meteor shower would offer me plenty of opportunities to wish upon those falling stars and dream.

Note:
Mountain Park was not always as developed as seen in the photo above. We moved here in 1957 and the desert mountain landscape was our back yard and playground. There was no lack of local fauna, including buzzards, snakes, scorpions, tarantulas (quite harmless), coyotes, and later occasional mountain lions, and mule deer…many, many mule deer. I can assure you I never “saw my own death” despite the myriad of rattlesnake stories. Our yard with the ivy trellised side of the house hosted an easy buffet with the many birds’ nests for the neighborhood snakes. Besides, if it wasn’t for a coachwhip I found on my way home from school, I would never have learned to do my own laundry before I moved away. But those stories are for another time.

Left: Susan and Keith on the lower raised patio (before being replaced with the rec room, office and upper deck). Keith’s pet horny toad (horned lizard) is on the table between his hands.
Photo ©1961 Fred K. James

The mule deer started coming down from the mountain during droughts and discovered the pleasure of foraging in the yards, plus the lure of deer corn and water provided by some of the residents, not the least me every time I returned for a visit back to El Paso from Paris. Working from Dad’s old office, I relished watching the deer, birds and squirrels congregate on the side patio. All I needed was a poofy blouse and full skirt to go out and twirl among them singing away like Snow White. When Mom died in 2018, we had to sell the family home of over 60 years, which still brings me to tears.