Jar of Glass: Words Collected by Tamara Lopez

After about two months of being isolated in the Intermountain area with my son, my mornings have begun to consist of opening my eyes, remembering that I am in lock down, and quickly switching my mind set to be grateful. This particular morning the sky was overcast, a layer of boredom had settled on my eyes, and a lethargy from indulging in way too much sugar had fogged my body and mind. I hardly ever watch movies, let alone in the morning, but this was just where my morning was going. The movie was Just Mercy. As I watched the depths of human insecurity, pain, injustice, and then the highs of justice felt only when there has been great suffering, my face contorted and tears flowed with overwhelming compassion, love, and disgust for the human race. I was shocked that a movie could have such power over my stoic self, but perhaps I was remembering that we are all human and all in this together despite our different types of isolations that are imposed upon us and sometimes in which we i...

Today, a beautiful, warm, spring day and also the day before Easter, Joaquin and I searched for the giant cross on the hill that we had seen so many times in passing. We parked on a dirt road that looked semi-close to the peak, and we forged our way through manzanita. At times, we found fragments of  what looked like used to be roads, and at times, we just took what was the least brushy path upward. On our journey upward, we encountered a hummingbird buzzing amidst the dry brittle branches and the flowering manzanita. Its brilliant green was a gym amidst the browns, tans, and yellows of a dry earth. After a brief pause of complete absorption into the magic of the tiny miracle of nature, we continued upward until we reached Brush Mountain Road. It struck me that we were not going to the top of the hill, but a small mountain. We followed the road upward noticing the monarchs and the orange tipped, white butterflies going about their business. Eventually, we came upon an excava...