Fresh Eyes

We love New Mexico, but seeing home through a new visitor's eyes is always invigorating.

Our 17 year-old niece visited recently from New England. She landed in El Paso marveling at the unfamiliar landscape she'd seen as the plane descended. Trans-Mountain Drive yielded a satisfying mix of cell-phone-camera clicking and exclamations of “Incredible!” Plus questions about whether people hiked in the Franklins. It was a particularly showy day, with late-afternoon sunlight striking peaks wearing bright white cloud-caps. The road itself felt like a roller-coaster.

We had to go to Albuquerque for the New Mexico Foundation for Open Government Dixon Awards luncheon and some meetings Wednesday morning. We transformed the trip into an adventure, driving up Tuesday by way of White Sands National Monument, Casa de Sueños Restaurant in Tularosa, Three Rivers Petroglyphs, and the Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge.

We don't always brag to visitors about what we're going to see. The strange, stark beauty of White Sands can only be enhanced by surprise. “Oh, we're gonna stop at a monument.” “OK.” Then suddenly that vast expanse of brilliant whiteness, the sand's cool feel on bare feet, and a bleached earless lizard posing for a few pictures under a bit of vegetation. 

“We'll get some Mexican food then look at some old

graffiti.” After her vegan calabacitas enchiladas, sopapillas are a new treat. Gary, the volunteer host at Three Rivers, is a genial gent with a big smile, a friendly dog, and a lot of new knowledge to share. His introduction enhances our niece's experience. She walks a good ways up the trail, contemplating images someone chipped into volcanic rock long ago and feeling a new connection with a long-dead civilization.

Wednesday's NMFOG luncheon is reassuring, a roomful of people, including some heavy hitters, focused on transparency in government in New Mexico.

Then we're on the road again. We reach the Bosque visitors' center just before closing, disappointed by the absence of water in two ponds where snow geese and sandhill cranes spend their nights, using the water as a protective moat between them and hungry coyotes. From late October to January, they land at sunset, sometimes struggling in high winds, and awaken at dawn to fly off to forage in nearby fields.

It's a bit early for the cranes. But there's water at the Boardwalk, so we take a look.

Our brief stop becomes one of those afternoons that take control of you. Lines of turtles are sunning

themselves on floating logs. More than a dozen white pelicans perch in a straggly line on a sand bar, along with ducks and geese. The pelicans, passing through, are a rare sight. The light catches them just right, accentuating their whiteness against the dark blue water, the golden reeds, and the mix of clouds and blue sky. We're captivated. We watch and photograph for what I'd call “a very long time” if I even

remembered time existed. Through the long lens, the pelicans' postures, and the varied shapes their beaks assume during a yawn, are goofy, but oddly beautiful.

Then we hear the unmistakable purr of sandhill cranes. Eleven circle high overhead, then fly further south.

Our guest is . . . uhh . . enchanted. The sun sets, and the full moon watches over us as we hurtle south toward Las Cruces. Watching our niece come to appreciate our desert home is like introducing beloved friends to each other and watching them share laughter and secrets.

Before dawn Thursday morning, as we drive to the airport, New Mexico bids her farewell with a magnificent lightning show.

                                            -30-

[The column above appeared this morning, Sunday, 8October2017, in the Las Cruces Sun-News, as well as on the newspaper's website and KRWG's website.  A spoken version will be aired by KRWG and KTAL-LP 101.5 FM, during the week.]

White Sands - study

Lone Turtle, White Pelicans

Lone Turtle, White Pelicans - as photograph

Lone Turtle, White Pelicans, Watchers

Lone Turtle on Floating Log

Dael and Daisy at the Boardwalk

White Pelican Flying

White Pelican Flying

11 Sandhill Cranes

11 Sandhill Cranes

Bosque - Late Afternoon

Bosque - Late Afternoon

Bosque - Late Afternoon

I wanted to add a couple more quick shots of the shapes a pelican's beak can assume during a yawn:

And a couple of images from White Sands National Monument:

The visit even included a chance to record a station ID for our new community radio station, KTAL-LP, 101.5 FM:

Daisy and Dael at Sunset over Rio Grande River

In Hembrillo Canyon

We spent last Saturday in Hembrillo Canyon, which really should be Hembrilla Canyon.

Mostly you can't get there, because it's within White Sands Missile Range. We learned, among other things, that 59% of the gypsum that gives White Sands National Monument its name is actually within WSMR, and just 37% in the Monument. We were duly instructed not to photograph any structures and also not to step on, kick, or pick up unexploded ordinance.

We went with the Native Plant Society, on an outing led by a fellow with one of the world's great jobs: Dave Anderson, WSMR's gardener. As WSMR's Land Manager, he gets to wander at will some very fine country that is exceptionally uncrowded. He was a fun and knowledgeable guide.

We visited the Range's northernmost population of Night-Blooming Cereus. Easily overlooked, this cactus has a very nice flower it deigns to show off only at night – and only on one night each year. Fellow Doña Ana Photography Club member Lisa Mandelkorn – who not only photographs flowers beautifully but takes the time to know what they are – has witnessed cereus flowering. 
 

They're rare. There were only two previously tagged cereus in this “population.” Dave gave us a few minutes to wander around, and before we left there were three. They look about like an old stick someone discarded in the middle of a creosote bush.
 
Creosote is said to kill other plants; but some cacti like to grow beneath creosote. I'm not entirely sure whether the creosote as plant-murderer story is a myth or a truth with exceptions. 
 
We wound our way up into the Canyon, seeing little evidence that it had shared much in the recent rains.

We ate lunch in a cottonwood grove that had been used for centuries. And decorated by centuries of visitors: it boasted both pictographs and petroglyphs. Mescalero Apache elders had identified the pictographs, but weren't too sure what earlier folks had left the petroglyphs.

We saw no great quantity of either; but what we saw were different from what I'd seen elsewhere; and the site's silence and solitude enhanced its appeal. 

Other wonders we ran across included ancient agave roasting pits, some neat cactus, mystery agaves, and a sotol with a wren's golden nest protruding from its golden stalk. In addition, some of our stops to gawk at plants also yielded views of Lake Lucero and the white sands far below us, with black mountains looming in the background.

Our travels also took us to the battlefield where Victorio, determined not to be moved, held off the buffalo riders with a much smaller force.

It wasn't a long walk, but I turned back, guessing my week-old new hip might object to the climb. While Dave regaled the others with tales of tricks, triumph, and treasure, I sat in my truck doing the sudoku and enjoying a light rain.

Soon we reached the fabled Victorio's Peak and turned back, without getting out our shovels.
Within minutes thunderclaps were following the lightning strikes as closely as an NFL defensive back covering a wide-receiver. We abandoned photography and just drove. Fast. 
 
The dry dirt road quickly became a raging river, making it a race to get to pavement while we still could. The waters were high enough that we got our feet wet -- in the truck. 

 
A classic end to a New Mexico outing. As we headed for the exit from the Range, an oryx with two young-uns stood by the side of the road watching us curiously, but raced off into the hills after we stopped to return their stares.

                                                       -30- 
[The column above appeared this morning, Sunday, 24 August in the Las Cruces Sun-News, though without the images.]