Santa Cruz, NM
Living in a place called the "Land of Enchantment," you think would quell any complaints about the ambiance. Undeniably, it is absolutely beautiful here, sometimes so much so that it is hard to put into words. My friend Nancy Kenney says there aren't enough superlatives to describe Santa Fe, NM. Agreed. Yet as much as I am inundated in beauty, both raw and created, I sometimes, well, get a little bored by the repeats and that 'oasis in a desert' feeling. I feel terrible for saying that but I come from another city, also with a charming nickname, aka Baltimore, MD or Charm City, which seems funny, because when I lived there, I thought that was small.
So I plan escapes every full moon or so. Last weekend was one of those get-outta-dodge romps that provided some serious new doses of neglected beauty. Friends like Eddie help. When he shouted at 8:00 a.m., "Mandatory field-trip, get dressed," it's like he read my mind. We got in the Jeep, and headed south on 25.
First stop: Espanola. Ok, it's a start. Eddie, who is well-known for his Spanish Colonial wood carvings, needed to drop some samples off at a friend's studio. On our way, we spotted this incredible weeping willow so massive and perfect I made him pull over for a shot. Funny how neighbors can be, the lady across the street threw me the most putrid look as I took a picture and then demanded, "What do you all want?" All I could think was beauty, lady, I just want beauty. But I said nothing.
Santa Cruz Lake
Next stop: water. Eddie wanted to show me that it does exist in New Mexico, contrary to popular belief. So we headed towards Santa Cruz Lake. At least we thought we did.
Not so fast...after chasing a dirt road that dead-ended in a cow field in Truchas, we turned around only to get side-tracked by the mountain-side towns' funky vibe and numerous little galleries. It was my kind of place, but we were on a mission, so back to find that unmarked Rt 76.
Mission accomplished. When we arrived at the lake, we convinced the Park Police to give us just enough time to absorb the view without having to pay the entrance fee. Ten minutes later, we were saturated in sun and sparkle which made us very happy as we planned a return camping trip.
Enter at your own Risk
Stop #3: Casa del David: character extraordinaire who is Eddie's friend. David's drive way entrance is a mixed bag of memorabilia...strange combinations of things like cleaning mops arranged as of they were miniature sculptures; rusted antique refrigerators which made us wonder what might still be inside; and dangling dead animal carcases that we deduced may have come from inside said rusted refrigerators. I was instantly entranced.
David and Eddie
David spoke in one of those rare dialects where ancient New Mexican Spanish attaches itself to English cliches, an often magical yet difficult to comprehend combination that only Eddie seemed to understand.
Disturbing plastic headless baby that kinda looks like Bart Simpson
I asked David if I could take some photos and he said no. He mumbled something about my camera stealing spirits and ruining the aura or something like that. After a rather awkward pause, he laughed and said, "Si, of course." Then he handed me a bottle of port wine, and said bebelo, so I did.
Cow skulls and Christmas lights
After a while, Eddie wanted to leave and return to the enchanted land where my little casita painted the colors of tropical citrus fruit awaited our weary day-tripper souls. As we pulled out of the driveway, I noticed two Maryland license plates. Could it have gotten any better?
He only had plates from Maryland
All photos by Carole Langrall