Taos struck me as quiet and dark spiritually. Maybe it was the time of year (spring)? The winds blew furiously around the pueblo as we went from shop to shop. The native Americans were very friendly. It wasn't their spirits that bothered me. It was something else, just beyond the realm of reality, something not quite tangible. But, there was a light in Taos. The bell in the little cemetery spoke to me of life beyond those graves. I felt life and light in the pueblo, but not in the city. Cities,............................