Desolation

I had forgotten how desolate northwestern New Mexico is.  Nothing but telephone poles for miles and miles.  On occasion you might see a house or if you are lucky, a hogan.  (It is hard to see but just to the right middle is a brown, eight-sided hogan.)

And then it is miles and miles of beautiful rock formations and brown grasses.

When I moved to Kansas, people would talk about the wide open spaces.  And yes, they are wide open, but there is usually a farm house within a mile or two of everywhere.  Not here. Civilization is miles and miles apart . . . with many rattlesnakes in between.  Right now, the drought it very evident.  Trees in the arroyos are dying from lack of moisture, and the grasses are hanging on for dear life.  It is a stark reminder of how water rules our lives and what happens without it.

The people who live out here are tough minded.  They are survivors.  I admire them.