Musings

I found pockets of people/businesses active before 9am this morning, but along this block, it was me and this crow. Since they are often in a group, aka a murder, I am a bit mystified about Mr/Lady Solo.

I hoofed it up Ft Marcy Hill, jacket off despite it being rather chilly…go heart rate!

Cutting back through the plaza and heading for the capitol side street, I found a line of baggied meters…clearly the city-fathers and -mothers opted for encouraging shopping traffic rather than collecting change.

Then we took off southbound to meet up with dear friends. We took the Interstate for a bit, then got off and took the back way (where it survived). In this area, signage makes a big deal about damaged guardrails, although, mysteriously, not in this case. I suspect this practice dates back to the early days of guardrail installation, when, if they were present, some drivers depended on them to nudge their vehicles back onto the road should their steering waver. Hypothesis.

Great view of the Rio Grande valley; we’re shooting off to the left, downstream.

Our secondary route took us through several pueblos, where we saw many hornos, sometimes in doubles and triples. Wonder how hot cottonwoods burn.

We even found a dozen or so sandhill cranes in one field, I guess opting to avoid party central down in Bosque del Apache.

We had a great visit with our friends, trying the whole time not to regret that we live so far apart. Talk, laugh. Repeat.

It gets dark early here, and the low light angle made for stupendous landscape views.

And here’s the basin of Santa Fé, a band of sunlight and city lights combining in this magic moment.

Finally, a birdy bookend, this time pigeons.

Posted at 10:04 PM | Comments Off on Parched pastiche