Cock-a-doodle-do to you, dear reader, from El Prado, NM, which if you’re lazy, is pretty much Taos. Greg, Juniper, and I went with my parents a few weeks ago. We played games, did a little shopping, ate at two of our favorite restaurants, and took in quite a lot of mountain and sky views, as you shall soon see.

Did you ever make the chalk drawings mimicking distant mountains like these? You had a paper for the “drawing” and a second sheet of the same size, which was torn in mountain shapes, rubbed over with colored chalk, then torn again, and moved up the paper and repeated until you were satisfied. Hats off to Ms. Lovato or Ms. Yu who taught me this. It felt very sophisticated for a single digit kid.

No surprise, I got all my “ham it up” instincts from my Dad!

We reveled in some spectacular sunsets!

And a rainbow!

This here is the reason we traveled. Balloons! Red River has a small but mighty festival. It did not disappoint, and was not terribly crowded, huzzah!

Only YOU can prevent forest fires.

My parents are on the left!

The perennially lovely and equally famous San Francisco de Asis in Ranchos de Taos. In the top shot, were you to turn to the right, you’d lay your eyes on one of our very favorite New Mexican restaurants, Ranchos Plaza Grill, and where we ate just prior to snapping these photos. It is absolutely not fancy, in a glorious old adobe building, dotted with local art, including a painting of a gentleman reading the newspaper at the table below.

The light is fabulous and the food and people even better. Please do try it, and save room for the biggest, best sopaipilla in the land. Mmm, YES!

Mountains and sky, and more sky. My heart!

Moo to you, dear reader. This is northern New Mexico, hours from our destination of Gila, off in the southwestern corner of the state. A place neither of us had ever visited, so, when pondering this year’s road trip, we easily settled on it.

Heat signatures and west we go towards Silver City.

The desert is far more pronounced than our region of the divide.

The landscape more jagged and toothsome.

On this trip, we learned all about the existence of sky islands, where desert ascends into pine forest. Oh, wondrous altitude! That glorious view from on high was wildly scented of resinous vanilla and parched earth. Good glory…

Here, and the photo above, we are gazing east from the Gila Wilderness, south of Truth or Consequences.

Tailings from the Chino Mine and most gigantic dump truck extraordinaire doing the work of organizing the landscape.

Our stay, four bumpy miles along a rugged road from Gila. We’ll spend three nights in this quiet paradise.

The Juper-dog…

…and what she saw. Bands of regal Gambel quail dashing purposefully toward an abundance of seed.

Up close and personal. So handsome!

Light form Swainson Hawk (yes?) silently diving and soaring, a daily gift from above.

Wisdom and peace come when you start living the life the creator intended for you.

Geronimo

We stayed in Apache Country, and this humble mesa was once the refuge of Geronimo. How about that?!

As we are often prone to do on remote journeys, we bought ample provisions at the nearest grocer (45 minutes away) and settled in. Cereal; ham, cucumber, and cream cheese for sandwiches; radish and lettuce for salad, and cold brew coffee on repeat.

Our phones stashed, a television we never turned on, we listened to nothing but the occasional wind and the chirrup of birds. We took many short walks and a few longer hikes, spying an incredible number of wildflowers in full bloom (their own post to come). We read and window gazed and napped and cuddled.

sycamore

Just across from this majestic tree lay a clutch of mesquite in flower, so very alive with bees. Riotous and whispering like a gaggle of gossips!

wet and dry and mossy

Our fantastic and generous hosts provided fresh, local eggs, a loaf of homemade bread, and a colorful bowl of fruit.

Come evening, we slipped into the hot tub, and when cloud-free, gazed upon a shooting star or two, countless satellites, and a million visible stellar neighbors. When it was windless, we failed to recall a more quiet place in all our travels.

Historic interlude: The book on the arm of the chair above was a collection of old and new photos of New Mexico, and this one in particular (from the late 1800s), is very meaningful to me. In this church, Santa Cruz de la Canada, in 1743, and well before the independence of these United States in which I live, my many times Great Grandparents, Olaya Xiron and Valentine de la Cerda (guess what day he was born?), were married. My heart…

The church, though altered, still stands, and I have visited it, but never been inside.

Such a wonderful assortment of birds: a myriad of hummers, hawks, crows, chickadees, sparrows, finches, cardinals, scrub jays, doves, orioles, the quails, and more I cannot recall.

It was perfect, and we could not have asked for more.

Next stop, Tucson!

Welcome to Raton Pass in deep fog.

Wagon Mound

Las Vegas, New Mexico

Short people worshipped here.

Pecos National Historic Park

Texas Horned Lizard is my best guess.

Glorieta Mesa

wild flower bouquet

Frankie’s – get the red chile.

Are you eating?

view from bed

It’s a loop.

It’s also mutual.

Three sunrises, one river: the Pecos. Our original plan included Michael and Mary, but their puppers got worryingly ill, so they had to stay home.

We made the best of our solitude and kept in the same vein of less is more, gazing for hours at the view, listening to the river and chirp of birds, cooking very little.

Our first day, the skies opened, and the arroyo came alive, thundering melted chocolate milkshake, flowing wildly, only to flame out in this glorious riot of sensual texture and delicate pools.

We did much snacking and kombucha drinking, paired with puzzling and music listening, late into the evening, hoping for a glimpse of brilliant stars, but being outshined by the moon, in the end.

We arose before the sun and took jaunts: about the property, to Frankie’s in Pecos for wonderful food, to Santa Fe, for yet more.

The highlight, discovering the Pecos Historical Park on foot to kill time before check-in. We wandered without any expectation, rounding the corner with literal gasps at the wonder of the structure, standing for hundreds of years. Marvel at what LASTS!

Not Taos, as the Cow would proclaim, nor San Cristobal, but Arroyo Seco here. We had a New Mexico itch in need of scratching, planned ages ago because we are prescient like that. Goodness, I do not believe we could have timed it better, either. The weekend prior was a wild tumult of wind, more wind, and snow, but for our brief sojourn, the weather was positively glorious. Sun and more sun, nary a breeze, and during the daylight hours, that earthly quiet my heart craves. Splendid dear friends, splendid.

We did go into town, buying a bracelet at MoMo (such a fine selection!) and devouring rellenos and chimichangas at Orlando’s.

Back to the Taos Cow, may I recommend a Cherry Ristra cone. For those not in the know, a ristra is a string of chiles, hung as you would a wreath in warm welcome. This particular welcome was, surprise, cherry, no chile, but delicious nuggets of dark chocolate and pinon nuts. Muy bien!

Here now is San Cristobal. We have zoomed past countless times, coming and going from Taos, this time deciding to stop at the Taos Goji Eco Lodge. It’s a delightful spot, with charming owners and care takers, cabins old enough to have hosted D.H. Lawrence, and Aldous Huxley. The rather fetching D.H. Lawrence cabin had all that we could ask for, but most cherished was the outdoor setting. So beautiful, and the stars, the stars! I cannot wait to have those skies availed to me on the daily.

The Lodge has forty acres, made for a wander, and is adjacent to beautiful trails. There are animals galore – sheep, alpacas, chickens, goats, and a sweet and very protective donkey named Doris Day. What fun we had making their acquaintance!

Our sweet girl had an equally good time, awake and asleep.

The road home. I never tire of these views!