In New Mexico, I passed through dust storm, thunder storm, hail storm, and wind storm all in the space of about an hour. There were ancient ruins and ghost towns and abandoned Navajo reservations--a people-less empire. Supper was chopped brisket and green chile stew on a rough pine table.
In my home growing up, we had paintings from Charles M. Russell, an artist whom I have long admired because of his name and cow skull signature. I thought a lot about those paintings today, and about Frederic Sackrider (no joke!) Remington's masterful bronzes.
When Shadows Hint Death
Now I'm no cowboy and the West was won long before I came around. But there's something about sage brush and dust and wide open spaces and long lonesome rides that brings out the lazy saunter and drawl in us all, I think. Well, it is the Land of Enchantment, I hear tell.