New Mexico November 2009

Having grown up in Utah, New Mexico is close enough that it qualifies as an officially “boring” place in my mind. It isn’t though. For starters there is Carlsbad Caverns. Unfortunately located at the bottom of the state and therefore as far as possible from us, but what a cool place it would be to visit! There are multiple tours you can take depending on how adventurous you are. Something like 100,000 bats live there and you can watch them fly out of the caves at sunset.


Also, there is the UFO museum at Roswell. And the hot air balloon festival in Albuquerque.

One of the things I enjoyed most about visiting this state was a children’s book I found called (I think), Pueblo Storyteller. It’s a picture book featuring a modern Indian girl and the culture of her life. Her relatives make figures from clay—specifically the famous “storyteller” figures. You may have seen these—a large seated man or woman (some cuter than others) with children all over them. The thing I loved about the book is that it showed how to truly make these figures from scratch. First the girl and her grandfather dug up the clay from near the river, then they mixed it to the right consistency with sand. Then they modeled the figures—then they fired the clay. Then the cool part---they built a one time kiln with sticks and dried cow pats. The clay goes in the middle then they light the whole thing on fire. It burns for quite awhile and when the fire goes out the figurines are ready for painting---with paints and dyes made from native plants of course.

I love crafts, especially low-tech ones. These pictures went straight to my heart.

Actually I do have a special memory of New Mexico. We lived in Texas for several years and Catherine and I both struggled mightily with respiratory problems due to the heat, humidity and pollution of the Houston area. Eventually we moved to Colorado. Catherine and I came on ahead to scout for an apartment. This was summertime but when I pulled into a rest stop in New Mexico, I got out of the car and the air was cool and suddenly I felt like I could breathe. It felt amazing. Catherine perked up too, we stayed for a snack and she bought a little dream-catcher at the gift shop that hung over her bed for years. The next morning I stepped out of our hotel room and even though it was August, I needed a sweatshirt. Pure paradise.

There are endless books of scenic photography taken in New Mexico, and since my imaginary self rides horses very well, I promptly took off into the sunset.