Shawn Marie Graybeal-Sellers

I went looking for a book cover today.

The plan was simple: drive up to the Jemez, hike the Los Conchas Trail, and see if I could find an image that felt like The Space Between Songs. I even considered bringing a guitar for a staged photograph, but in the end I left it behind and just took my camera.

The trail didn’t disappoint.

It wound through tall ponderosa pines, crossed open meadows bright with summer green, and followed a creek that looked more like Colorado than the New Mexico most people imagine. Around every bend there seemed to be another photograph waiting. By the time I got back to the trailhead, I had taken 73 pictures.

Somewhere along the way, I realized I wasn’t just looking for a cover.

Ten years ago, hikes like this were a regular part of my life. Then came surgery, COVID, blood clots in my lungs, an upper GI bleed, and a long stretch of time when getting back to the mountains felt harder than it should have. Today, for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t thinking about any of that. I was thinking about the light filtering through the trees, the sound of the water, and whether a particular bend in the trail might be the image I’ve been searching for.

I came home with a camera full of photographs and one image that keeps pulling me back. It may become the cover of The Space Between Songs. Or maybe it won’t. I may visit a few more locations before I make that decision.

Either way, the day was a success.

Sometimes you set out looking for a photograph and find something else instead.

Sometimes you find a trail that reminds you where you’ve been, where you’re going, and how good it feels to be walking there again.