I know this is old news now, but I just found this site today, and hadn't seen this article at the time of its print. Who and what are we becoming? Who am I becoming? I can't point my finger at anyone but myself. I don't spend as much time hiking the Sandia mountains or exploring the bosque as I used to do. I don't ride my bike to the base of the ancient dusty volcanoes as I used to do. I spend more time online, more time with my face flushed in blue light. I spend more time finding meaning in the connection between myself and stranger than I do in the connection between myself and the geese that migrate over my home. We are changing, our hands on the keys are our only tactile nexus. It is our minds that convey our sense of wonder. It is no longer our eyes, our sense of smell, the simple way we bend when the wind hits our face. It is as if we are leaving our bodies, and leaving the body of our mother behind.