Thursday, October 04, 2007

Southwest scenes

Part of the Organ Mountains, within sight of Las Cruces, New Mexico. Nearby, a highway rises through a mountain pass and descends toward the White Sands missile range and the White Sands National Monument. That’s not my house; would that it were.

A few weeks ago, we drove with friends to White Sands to watch a balloon festival. Hundreds of people showed up, only to learn that the wind was too strong—and blowing in the direction of the nearby mountains. The children didn‘t seem to mind the event's cancellation, because they got to climb and slide on the soft gypsum dunes. They often use plastic sleds.

A daisy outside the T or C Public Library, which hosted a book signing for me. T or C is the area's shorthand for Truth or Consequences, which renamed itself in honor of an old television program. T or C used to be known as Hot Springs.

The long, lonely road from Marathon to Fort Stockton, Texas. Most of the road looks just like this: straight and empty. Behind me were a fence, a field, and a small family of longhorns. Dad’s picture is in the previous blog entry.

Crape myrtle in bloom, Austin, Texas.


Kathryn Mackel said...

Great pictures. Does Los Cruces feel like "home" you leave it?

Bob Sanchez said...

Yes, it does feel like home, Kathy. Some days it's too hot, but the sunshine is abundant and wonderful. So is the pace of living.

Hope you're feeling better!

Ruth D~ said...

It is certainly a beautiful area, Bob. So completely different from New England. We're in our beautiful season here, well maybe they're all beautiful, but fall is my favorite. I'm fascinated by the gypsum sledding. That must be fun.

Bob Sanchez said...

We lived for so long in New England, where I always looked forward to the fall, especially when I had bulbs to plant.

One year, we bought a potted rosemary plant at Costco. It was supposed to last about two weeks indoors in December, but ours lasted most of the winter.

Down here, everyone grows rosemary in their yards, where the plants cascade over stone walls. It's great. Summer colors seem more varied and vibrant in New England. The beauty down here is different, starker, and perhaps needs getting used to. The air is truly dry, the sunshine almost boringly common--a full day of clouds comes almost as a shock. The Organ Mountains impose themselves on the city, though the photo I just posted doesn't make that point. And empty space? You don't know the meaning of empty space until you've driven through New Mexico or West Texas.