At the Old Corral

We traveled NM 107, a plume of dust behind us like a pheasant's tail. We were looking for The Gate, where Bill and I put our Polaroid on a tripod and took our picture in November, 1992, before we were married, before Phoebe and Liam, before almost anything had happened in our young lives. If anything, the pull of that old corral and gate and the mountains all around it is even stronger today, and I started crying quietly as soon as we left Evett's Cafe, in anticipation and joy and sheer rapture of being in this sacred spot once again.
Soon the primitive fenceposts we were looking for hove into view.
We made our way to The Gate, and Wayne kindly took our picture. Liam is trying to make me stop crying. He has a little trouble with happy tears. I guess most men do.
We also posed for a recreation of the original Polaroid, complete with bad color (my camera was set two stops too light).
And another with the family. Liam has wrapped himself all around us, bald baby-suddenly-turned-supermodel Phoebe is squeezing me, Bill's strong arms enfolding us all, the new Navajo bling he just got me is hanging from my neck... At this point I'm really losing it. Life is so good.
Bill found the bottlecap he put in the old post last year to mark the spot.
Phoebe and Liam against the light. Now this is their sacred spot, too. We've only been here once more than they have. I hope that when they're pushing 50, they'll come here and stick a bottlecap in the post, too.
Tomorrow early, we head for Pennsylvania for my Big Weekend. I'll probably be out of touch until Monday, but you can be sure I'll have pictures of the gala event. I'm so looking forward to it, and trying not to dither too much. I'm so happy to have my little nuclear family, and even my brother and sister-in-law coming to the show! Life is good!

The Road to Magdalena

I can't think of another place on the planet that has the pull on my heart that Magdalena, New Mexico does. It's the perfect storm of landform, wildlife, vastness, beauty and memory, and it takes me apart. Saturday afternoon was to be the only time we'd have to sneak off from the Festival of the Cranes at Bosque del Apache NWR to visit our sacred spot. This time, we took not only the kids but a few friends: Paul Baicich, Wayne Peterson, and Marilyn and Mary, who we met at the festival. It was different, but lots of fun to take other people along and share this magical place with them. Please note that I am showing a modicum of style, including full-length trousers.Since we'd been fieldtripping all morning, we'd need something to eat other than Clementines and Corn-nuts, a snack which I'm quite sure will cost me thousands in dental repair someday. We made our way straight to Magdalena, passing a sentinel cow along the way.
I wouldn't say that Evett's is going to make a Zagat rating any time soon, but we weren't picky, and, it being Saturday, we missed the Magdalena Cafe by 20 minutes. I hear it has a killer pecan pie. I love Evett's for the old bank it's in, its atmosphere and funky signage, as well as the clientele. Here's ornithologist and conservationist Wayne Peterson with a Baxter Black lookalike. These cowboys had some serious cookie dusters, the Yosemite Sam look. Check out the patina on that hat!
Paul Baicich is probably the nation's greatest proponent of the Federal Migratory Bird Conservation Stamp, more popularly known as the Duck Stamp. If every nature lover and bird watcher would just buy a $15 Duck Stamp every year, what wonders in habitat acquisition could be accomplished! Here, Paul tries to get a sanitary stamp for his collection. I love those relics from the 40's and 50's, when everything was touted as "sanitary" or "hygeinic." Bill and I did a bit of prosyletizing on the Duck Stamp's behalf, displaying ours prominently on our binoculars, and talking it up to other birdwatchers. An alarming number of them were completely unaware that people other than duck hunters could (or should) buy Duck Stamps, and what the $16 cost goes to (habitat acquisition). A Duck Stamp will get you in free to any national wildlife refuge in the country, and ours paid for themselves in one weekend. Paste one on your binoculars for the ultimate in cool birdwatcher bling. Then, all you have to do is wear your binocs to get into any national wildlife refuge, free of charge. You'd be wearing them anyway, right?

While we fooled around and waited for our tacos, Bill, Mary, the kids and I walked up the street to this shop. I had a fever for some turquoise, and we thought it would be fitting and cool if we could find some in Magdalena. The little Trading Post called to me, and I answered.
We found a necklace that will be just the thing to top off my Coldwater Creek outfit for my show opening in Pennsylvania the weekend of Nov. 29, and it was about half what it would have cost in Taos (but then, what isn't?) Sweet William bought it for me, and he got some hand-beaded earrings for Phoebe, too. Liam was satisfied with a stretchy snake from the gum machine. Little boys rock, and they're cheap to maintain, too.
A curious kitty watched us from a nearby porch. She'd have to wait to see my turquoise necklace, and you will, too. There are just too many images for one post. More Magdalena tomorrow!