Monochrome Wanderings, Cyclical Change
A Perspective-Setting Necessity
Lately, roaming numbered New Mexico highways has been a welcome weekend alternative to sensationalism in the American air—observing past cycles of American history as a distraction from the present—and acknowledging my fascination with sometimes repetitive patterns of change.
I’ve realized that instead of the ex-pat life of years past, my current out-the-door explorations are not so different from walking the Kennet and Avon Canal in Berkshire, England, when I lived in Newbury. The landscape may be different, but the idea is the same—stories in the landscape remind us that change is constant—and universal—whether told by myth or in our memories.
These photos, which seemed best in monochrome, result from a simple route north through Espanola, Ojo Caliente, and east to Taos across the Rio Grande Gorge. At my side was Francis and Roberta Fugate’s Roadside History of New Mexico, a 1989 book full of still-valuable gems and memories of injustice, battles, and famous names.
The Fugates reported how the still-frequented hot springs at Ojo Caliente have significance in prehistory and were among Lt. Zebulon Pike’s recollections when captured by the Spaniards near Taos in 1807. Look beyond Pike’s archaic language for a prescient summary of how change occurs—mergers and morphs of people, traditions, and natural landscapes:
The village consisted of civilized Indians, but much mixed blood. Here we had a dance which is called the Fandango, but there was one which was copied from the Mexicans, and is now danced in New Spain, and has even been introduced at the court in Madrid. This village may contain 500 souls. The greatest curiosity is the warm springs, which are two in number (actually five), about 10 yards apart, and each affords sufficient water for a mill seat. They appear to be impregnated with copper, and were more than 33 degrees above blood heat.
I proceeded towards Taos through homesteaded farmlands, present and past, a low-density settlement named for Kit Carson, and then across the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge. Along the way, I sent photos to family and friends in New Mexico, Palm Springs, Seattle, Portland, Miami, London, and Singapore. I suppose I wanted to involve people from afar and invite them to create their own analogies about interactions with people, land, and evolving borders.
I could have quickly posted photos from my past to illustrate change themes and to seek comfort. But, I’d much rather keep learning by exploring new places and vicariously incorporating the memories in the land.
