Taos dreaming....

The deep riff in the Earth just west of Taos. At its bottom flows the Rio Grande River. It's a riff, not a channel eroded by the river. Hence, the riff is a metaphor for the splitting apart of the land. Not just here, but in other parts of the country and world as well.

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I thought I'd escape the real world for a few minutes in today's blog. (Oh, what the hell am I thinking? This isn't escape. This IS the real world and that's what I let the embarrassment, aka our government, allow me to forget most days.)

No, we'll be forgoing the madness that passes as reality far more than we should allow in about two weeks. And for a few days we'll exist in what has become, for us, our "magnificance" --Taos. So I thought I'd share a few of my past photos from that area.

I'm sure everyone has *special* places. And maybe, like me, your special places have evolved over the years. Taos wasn't always special to me. Mostly because I hadn't yet discovered it.

In my limited exposure to the world, there are places I've formerly held very dear. Places like the Oregon coast, the central California coast, and my favorite city, San Francisco. And while still very special to me, Taos has overtaken all of my former "numero uno" spots on Earth. Now before you go, "Taos?" just know I haven't been to Paris, Hawaii, Vegas or Disney World yet.

I don't think the photos posted here can explain why I love this area. That's because Taos isn't just "pretty pictures." It's far more. The casting of the landscape as characterized by the 650 foot gash in the side of the Earth (pictured above), just west of town, is transcended far beyond its display of magnificent geology. It manifests in the spirit of the people who live beside this geology, in this geology. And their history is long and sometimes very rocky. (Ugh, sorry!)

And, yes, there exists dire poverty there and examples of the excesses such severe conditions that people living under those extremes can be driven to because of it. And yes, there also exists lavish contrasts in the wealth of the people who possess it who are attracted here. And of the excesses they, too, can be driven to because of it. People who have it, trying desperately to gain more. And then there's our defenseless defense secretary Donald Rumsfeld who maintains a residence here.

But enough blather. Here then, are a few pictures of the place I love so dearly.

If you go straight where the road bends to the left at the north end of town, you can easily end up looking down this rutted road. If you follow the fence to its vanishing point to the south, you will find yourself back in Taos.

Taos' elevation is 7,000 feet above sea level. Just a couple of miles to its north, at yet an even higher elevation, lies Arroyo Seco. I love horses, so upon spying this one, I stopped one October just outside that town and shot it (photographically, that is). I've no idea what winter must be like here, but I'm sure it's not as pleasant as autumn. I've yet to visit Taos in winter. As Robert Burns once reminded us, "Winter is nature's way of saying, 'Up yours!' "
Another couple miles north still, in a valley off to the side of the road to the Taos Ski area lies this scene. I confess, this was taken as my camera's auto exposure was expiring and all photos were being horribly washed out from over-exposure. Hence this shot has been overly colored by me.

Not far is this little church and, as everywhere in the area, it's made from adobe. I don't know, there's something about adobe that's just so, ahm, "earthy".
Back in Taos there exists in the very center of town this cemetery. It's setting is perfect, i.e., it's set within the city park.

The park is one of the best used parks I've ever seen, with children's little league games, community arts festivals, craft fairs and concerts always happening. As a result, the dead are never out of earshot of the activities of the living and people, especially the children, are never out of sight of the dead. I caught the two little girls in this photo as they paused at a tombstone. I call it "dancing with Kit Carson" who is buried nearby.

Sometimes I get up very early and just walk around Taos as the first light of day is creeping across the land. I love the long shadows and contrast of light and dark that result. And with many people still asleep, they're not as disturbed at my presence in their yards shooting photos of their trucks and stuff.

Of course, another source of Taos' tremendous power is the pueblo just a mile or so north of town. Continuously inhabited for more than a thousand years, I'm pretty sure it exceeds by centuries any such dreams of longevity the United States might have. Sadly, I haven't included any photos of the pueblo. That's because they're stuck over on our old computer.