Itinerant Air-Cooled Greetings From New Mexico II
Posted: Tue Aug 10, 2010 9:15 pm
I have really gotten into the countryside, stomping down paths in the moonlight and reviewing the interaction I might have with a cougar or coyote, "excuse me, I am taking a walk and I'll thank you not to attempt to eat me." Then I go back to the car and look up at the Milky Way and tell it, "just because you are so big and mysterious doesn't mean I can skip out on my stupid little lists of things I have to do."
In the morning, I am awakened by a totally incomprehensible moo. "What? Where have I been transported to?" I scramble up and there is a Commuter Cow in a Hurry trotting past the VW. Aha. The slightly soft steps during last night's walk were merely big cow pies.
I have a different view of the spooky beautiful landscape in the early morning light:
Here's a view from the semi-cliff that I scaled with a diminishing grace:
There is an unbelievably stubborn bunch of gnarly trees. This one, how does it transport to its leaves, the trunk looks like it was blown in half:
This one had to face its fate. Woke up to being born in a rock crevasse. I guess it decided it had nowhere to go but up:
. . . so it did. And now it gets to enjoy the view and laugh at the punishing winds while its pals who used to scorn its lowly beginnings have to hang on to the sandy soil for dear life:
Up here, there were no cow pies. There is a deceptively high series of bluffs that I capered over seeking a path back down to the cow road:
Look at this Sculpture by God Using Wind and Rain (cerca 115,782 BC). It is like a stone horse fly:
Put some damn clothes on and drove down to the interstate. Pulled into a gas station all stubbly and shiny dirty tan, filled up with confused loathing at the speaker that was prattling my ass off "GET A 64oz BIG CHILL AND A SPICY HOT DOG FOR ONLY $4.99!" and went out into the rushing wind noise and a 2.0 air-cooled purr and ticked off hours of sunlight angling through morning noon and afternoon and gazed upon this:
In the morning, I am awakened by a totally incomprehensible moo. "What? Where have I been transported to?" I scramble up and there is a Commuter Cow in a Hurry trotting past the VW. Aha. The slightly soft steps during last night's walk were merely big cow pies.
I have a different view of the spooky beautiful landscape in the early morning light:
Here's a view from the semi-cliff that I scaled with a diminishing grace:
There is an unbelievably stubborn bunch of gnarly trees. This one, how does it transport to its leaves, the trunk looks like it was blown in half:
This one had to face its fate. Woke up to being born in a rock crevasse. I guess it decided it had nowhere to go but up:
. . . so it did. And now it gets to enjoy the view and laugh at the punishing winds while its pals who used to scorn its lowly beginnings have to hang on to the sandy soil for dear life:
Up here, there were no cow pies. There is a deceptively high series of bluffs that I capered over seeking a path back down to the cow road:
Look at this Sculpture by God Using Wind and Rain (cerca 115,782 BC). It is like a stone horse fly:
Put some damn clothes on and drove down to the interstate. Pulled into a gas station all stubbly and shiny dirty tan, filled up with confused loathing at the speaker that was prattling my ass off "GET A 64oz BIG CHILL AND A SPICY HOT DOG FOR ONLY $4.99!" and went out into the rushing wind noise and a 2.0 air-cooled purr and ticked off hours of sunlight angling through morning noon and afternoon and gazed upon this:
