Ghost Town.

This trip we went back to southern New Mexico.  Pat wanted to see that Rocky Canyon.  Notah and Kerra had been trying to figure out the actual name of the canyon. It was deep and long and they thought sure it should have a name.  They came up with two, but I know the one was wrong.  I don't know about the other..

We went in the way we had come out last week.  It was shorter than the other way.  We turned off the highway onto the graded road.  We turned off the graded road onto a two tire track.  A little ways along that track, Pat thought he saw a grave and wanted to stop so he could look at it.

We're always ready to 'stop and  look.'  Good thing we did.

After they'd walked around for a while I decided the ground was even enough that I'd have no trouble walking so I got out too. I'm glad I did.

There was a grave there.  In fact there were several.  Pat had discovered an old, old graveyard.  A rough path 'paved with a variety of flat stones, had once led among them.  The path was only visible after we'd found the graves. Then it was obvious the stones scattered here and there had once led through the graveyard.   There were no markers remaining, only heaps of stone or sometimes circles of stone surrounding a sunken pile of others.
 
Beyond the grave yard was the remains of an old well, It had been filled in long before, but the circle of the wall remained.  To the side were three metal rings of the sort once used to bind barrels and buckets.   Like these. 

   

The rings were small, about 12 inches in diameter, so the bucket or barrel must have been of a size easily carried when filled with water.  The wood had long since rotted away, only the rings remained.

That's all that remained besides tumbleweed and some windblown trash.

Across the road, (I didn't go over because my 'walking around time' was over.)  Kerra found the foundations of houses.  There had e vidently been a small town there that had remained long enough that they needed a cemetary.  I suppose there were eight or ten graves that we saw.  There may have been more scattered among the brush.

It's poignant to think that this is just one of many towns scattered throughout the southwest.  I wondered who the people were who had lived here.  Why did they start a town here in, seemingly, the middle of nowhere.  What did they do for a living?  Did they arrive intentionally or was it a last ditch choice? Did they all leave at once? Or did the town just slowly die?  Or did the well go dry and force them to leave? 

It made me think of the poem by Shelley:  "Nothing beside remains. Round the decay . . .  boundless and bare  The lone and level sands stretch far away.'      

That was the feeling there beside that lonely lost town.    

Rocky Canyon

I always come back and say, "I wish I had taken pictures."  But on this trip I was too busy holding on to take pictures. 

Let me say first, that if I EVER have an ocassion to buy a pickup truck (at almost seventy and on a limited income)  I will buy a Dodge Ram.  Notah's four wheel drive Ram is amazing.  He takes that truck to the wildest places--places where the incline is so steep I doubted if we could go down, never mind back up.  We have climbed mountains and gone down canyons while I held on for dear life and my kids laughed at me!  One day I came home and my arm was aching from holding the grab bar so tightly for eight hours.

I looked through my photos for a picture of it, but I couldn't find any.  Here's as close as i can come....

 

That's pretty good. I think Notah's has bigger tires... Don't hold me to the year, etc... I just pulled this of the 'net.

 

That said I can go on with this account.   

On Saturday we took 25 south past Socorro and then turned off.  I don't keep track of routes and turns.  I just ride.  We turned and turned again while Notah and Kerra discussed where to go and how to get there.   

We followed another one of Notah's 'here's the road, it goes this way' kind of 'roads'.  It led across a couple flats and up a ridge, around another slope and down into a canyon.  It was a beautiful ride. 

Then we started up a canyon. To be honest there were tracks, but I'm not sure what made them.  Not a normal pickup, that's for sure.  The way led up a gorgeous canyon,  In places the rock wall went straight up and there was just room for the truck at the bottom.  At different times rain sent wat er rushing through it. Thank goodness there was none today, although in a couple place we looked off to the side and saw little streams or pools.   

I don't have words to describe it but it went on and on. A couple times I thought Notah would surely turn around, but no, he said we could  make it...  And we did.   

In some places the rocks came right down to the road with a bit of scrub brush along the base. In others pines and juniper marched right down the steep slope.  A couple times Notah stopped and debated which fork to take.  I don't believe he made the wrong choice at any time, but twice I remember looking back at what had seemed a good way to go. Both of those times I saw that the way was blocked at the end by a pile of rocks.  Notah seems to have an instinct for choosing the 'road.' 

We drove up that long canyon and finally climbed up to a ridge.  And it was worth the trip! We stopped and looked around for a while.  The dogs jumped down.  I think we only took Bella and Thain on that trip.  Babycake tends to get in too much trouble.  Mia was a rescue picked up from under a cattle guard.  She is afraid to get in a vehicle.  I think she relates it to being dumped along the road and starving for several days before Kerra coaxed her out.  (Kerra will pick up any lost or abandoned dog. I think they have collected four or five to date.  Three went to good homes. Two ((Mia and Babycake)) still live with them.) 

To go on,  Bella and Thain jumped out to run around.  The family spread out in different directions.  I held down the fort at the truck.  I mean, well, we wouldn't want anybody to steal it while everyone was gone!   Seth climbed along the smooth rocks opposite the truck.  Notah and Kerra walked across the wash and went along the slope on the other side.  They were gone several minutes  a half hour maybe.  

Here's the exciting part.  When they came back I found out Seth had seen a...ready for it...A WOLF!   He had gone up that smooth slope of rock he was on and hiked around behind it.  In the distance above him he'd seen a 'dog' trotting along the ridge.  Thinking it was Thain he'd called it but the dog ignored him.  He called across to his mom and dad asking if Thain was with them.   They whistled and Thain popped up right there between them...  Seth had seen a wolf.  

Now, remember a few weeks ago when I'd seen that track?   Yep.  Turns out there are wolves in that part of the mountains.  There has been a program introducing Mexican Gray Wolves back into the southwest. (Check here for a video and more info.  http://www.fws.gov/southwest/es/mexicanwolf/   I don't post exactly where we are in these blogs.  Enough to say that it wasn't the Apache Nat'l Forest.  There have been releases in NM, too.  And no one but Notah needs to know where we were.)

The neatest thing is that I really did see a wolf track!  WOW.
We got back in the truck and went down in that wash I mentioned.  It turned into another canyon.   After winding up that one, just as rough and rocky as the first,  Notah decided we needed to turn around.  It was getting on toward evening and we weren't sure how far it would be to the next paved road.  He backed up until he found a place that would let him turn around.  (A space the size of a postage stamp in my estimation!)
As dark was coming on we followed the original route back out.   On the hillside, as we made out way out the first canyon, there was a herd of deer, five or six, climbing the slope up from the bottom.  Shortly after that two elk were trekking up the canyon slope too.  It was the first time I'd ever seen elk in the wild! 
None of the animals seemed at all worried about the big red truck disturbing the peace.  The paused and looked at it then went on up the hill.
It was dark the time we were back on the road--by a diffferent route let me say.  Notah said, 'this will take us out and drove off on another ffork.  Sure enough it led to a graded road that led to the highway.   How's he do that? 
Must be generations of Navajo ancestors finding their way through their homeland.



Sitting on a canyon side in the midst of the mountains.

We're the only people for eight or ten miles along a two tire track that wandered through the desert, sometimes almost disappearing among the rocks and sage brush.  Most people wouldn't even call it a road.  But it brought us far from people.

It is so quiet I can hear myself think. The only sound is the buzz of two flies investigating the red monster of the truck.  Even the wind is so gentle I have to concentrate to hear the  quiet shusshing  Far, far over head, so high I can't even see it in the clear blue a plane passes with a sound so faint it is only a distant drone instead of the usual roar. If I were in town I would never hear it, but here the silence is so deep the sound travels from the vault of the sky.

I can see across the canyon to the rock ledges on the opposite wall.  The are so even and straight it is easy to imagine they are the remains of the cities of ancient giants--the monster gods of the pueblo and Navajo, the kachina and the yei. I know these formations were created by tectonic forces and the effects of wind and water on the stone, but they look as though some huge hand stacked them like children's toys or carved them as enduring sculptures.  In the forty years since I first saw New Mexico they have never  ceased to amaze me.

Notah, Kerra and Seth are hiking on the canyon slope behind me.  They will bring me back strange rocks or broken shards of a pot abandoned by some roving gatherer or, if Kerra's sharp eyes spot it, a broken arrow point or a flake where a paeolithic hunter stopped to make a quick blade to dispatch his kill.  Ocassionally they run across tumbled villages or house sites with the accompanying debris of the people who lived there.  They take a couple photos to send me and mark them in their memory.  More often though their finds are simply scattered across the desert. I wish I were thirty years younger and a hundred pounds lighter so I could climb with them.  But at least my knees work and I can walk in the desert again.

A few minutes ago I walked around the flatter area here where the truck is parked.  The clumps of old juniper trees exude an resiny fragrance if I brush them and I walked among clumps of bunchgrass and old tumblweed skeletons. The ground was sandy with shale-like rocks here and there.  

A ways down from where we parked I found the  old remains of a camp fire.  The ashes were beaten into the ground by rain and weather; the couple of burnt sticks were half buried in the sand.  Someone else a long time ago had set here and maybe enjoyed looking out across the open space as they sloped away before them. I could imagine a lot of different scenarios about the circumstances that brought someone to this spot.

When I walked back to the truck I came upon a clear dog track in a bit of open ground. It was huge. almost as large as my palm. (Keep in mind, my hands aren't very big, but still)   I smiled at first,  thinking Bella had left her mark in this place.  Then I realized that it wasn't a new track. It was hard, pressed into mud sometime past! 

My first thought was: wolf.  Then I laughed at my imagination.  I'd spent too long wandering around making up stories about wide spaces and campfires. 

I came back and sat down.

Now I'm eating my banana and playing with my kindle.  Bella and Thain are back from their jaunt with the family so I guess they'll soon be back. 

Day and Night Employment

"And these are the singers ... they were employed in that work day and night." 1 Chronicles 9:33.

This verse came to my attention. Think about it. These singers were placed in the temple to sing praises to God day and night. Just as God's mercy was enduring so were the songs of praise to be offered day and night. That was their only responsibility--to ensure that praises were constantly going up to Jehovah..

Then I thought how just as Gods love for US in this day of grace, is enduring and his Help is every available for us to utilize, so should our praise be constant. Not that we need to go around "Thank you, Jesus." "Hallelujah" all the time, Because that becomes hypocritical and false after a time. But our hearts should always be in a state of praise and worship before the Lord. We must always be aware of His Presence in our lives and stay our focus on His Salvation..

Christ has promised His Spirit to dwell with us daily as long as we hold ourselves before Him and obey His Word.  The Lord blesses us daily with life and breath and His Power to help us live pleasing to Him and he is deseving of our constant awareness of Him. If we keep our hearts in an attitude of thankfulness and praise it will keep the Enemy of our soul at bay. It is difficult to be tempted when our mind and heart is stayed on Him.

in the Cleft of the Rock

 

I do most of my ‘deep’ thinking early in the morning. Today I was meditating on how wonderful it is to rest in the Lord.  I know for me it is something I depend on fully but don’t often try to verbalize. 

I was thinking of all the scriptures that describe the state of being that the Lord offers His Own.  One scripture and a hymn stood out. 

“The eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms:” Deut. 33:27  Consider the toddler when Daddy (or Mommy) comes home after an absence. The child races across the room and launches himself into his father’s arms, fully confident that he will be caught.  The seem to have no fear of heights or depths or scary situations as long as daddy’s arms are holding him  We can have that same confidence and the arms that hold us know no weakness or tiring.

Fanny Crosby wrote many of our most beautiful hymns.  One of them describes how we are protected by the savior.   

“He hideth my soul in the cleft of the rock,
That shadows a dry, thirsty land;
He hideth my life in the depths of His love,
And covers me there with His hand,
And covers me there with His hand.”

What a safe place to be! I have a picture in my mind of standing in a small cleft of rock in the desert.  The tall rocks tower up on three sides and I look out across a hot and barren land full of dangers.  And all the while I’m safe there in the cozy corner protected by the Hand of God. 

We have to face the world, but the Hand of God protects our eternal soul from danger.  And, yes, many, many times our physical body is held safe.  But regardless of physical harm we know of a surety that the most vital part of us is safe in God’s Hands.



Modern Christian Music

Folks, If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, sounds like a duck, it IS a duck.  If it looks like a wolf, acts like a wolf, sounds like a wolf, it IS a wolf!  Don't be deceived just cuz the title on the album cover says Christian"  "Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves. "Matt 7:15

Our TV cable package includes a series of music stations. During the day I usually play either the Classical station or the “Easy Listening” lineup softly in the background.

Yesterday I either dropped the remote or sat on it. (I don’t remember which.)  But suddenly this wild, weird, pounding music exploded across the room.  I grabbed the remote and looked up. I thought it was a worldly rock station.  I was shocked to see that I had switched it to a ‘Christian’ music station.   I could hardly decipher the words, but the SPIRIT blasted out with all the ravening power of Satan. 

Before you get up in arms, you really should read this…

Dan Lucarini, a former worship leader in the contemporary church scene, left the ‘Christian Music’ genre that mimics modern pop, rock, hip hop, and/or jazz, etc has taken a stand against the music he once promoted. 

Read his comments here and then check out his book.  I don’t know what his understanding is of the scriptures or even whether or not he is fundamentalist or what, but his stand on Modern ‘Christian’ music is sound.

At the heart of his argument is that rock music, and all forms of it, is a music style that was created by immoral men for immoral purposes.

Whether it's soft rock, pop/rock, jazz, praise and worship, Chris Tomlin, Delirious? or Hillsong, CCM is "scandalous and offensive because of where it came from and what it means around us in the world today," he argues.

"And I don't believe that Christians can just take it and sanctify it and call it holy," he says to those who say it can be used to reach people for God. "I think it's a mistake."

It's like serving a nice juicy steak on a garbage can lid (even if you try to scrub it, it remains a dirty garbage can lid), he explains.

Read more at http://www.christianpost.com/news/former-worship-leader-why-i-left-ccm-movement-39870/#wsxjwLddB0QfJq7T.99

Remembering Linda

Michael brought home the DVD for “The Hobbit.”  Of course I watched it.  I’ve written of the Tolkien stories before in these blogs

I first found The Hobbit when I was in about the sixth or seventh grade, perhaps 1957.  It may have been before that because I began reading from the adult section as soon as I was allowed.  I believe that was at the beginning of the eight grade.  I found The Hobbit in the children’s section of the library.  I can even remember exactly where I was standing when I found it—in the front left hand corner of the library.  There was a shelf section of about eight feet or so between the corner and the window.  The hobbit was on the second or third shelf in about the middle.  I remember because I went back there to pick up The Hobbit again several times even after I graduated to the adult section.  It was considered a “children’s book.”

The Trilogy of the Rings did not become widely available in the US until later in the 1950’s and I probably found it in 1959 or ‘60.  I devoured that as soon as I discovered it on the adult shelves.

When Peter Jackson presented his movie version of the Trilogy I was excited to see it, even though many of the exciting portions had to be cut in order to keep it from becoming a long running series instead of three movies.  In the end of 2012, The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey opened and just a few days ago it came out on DVD.   Michael and Rachael surprised me with it Friday evening.  Saturday morning (March 23) I watched The Hobbit: The Unexpected Journey.  It was ‘okay’ but only because I had read the book before.  If I hadn’t known the story I would have said the movie was great.  This morning I watched the second disc.  It was a compilation of ‘extras”—scenes of New Zealand, video blogs about production, and copies of the trailers as well as previews of the games the movie has spawned.

The blogs were what impressed me the most.  They were made to give fans insights into the production and shooting of the movie. 

When I was director of the day care, my head teacher for quite a few years was Linda Mitchell.  I’m not sure how she became involved in day care but she was an excellent early childhood teacher without the degree in early childhood education.  Her first love however was the theater and movies.  Her bachelor’s degree was in Theater, I believe.  She was involved the local little theater group, interested in movies and sci fi conventions. We spent a lot of time, in between the business of caring for children and the needs of the day care, talking about the little theater.  Linda was seldom involved in the on-stage aspects of the productions, the acting, singing, dancing, etc.  She was interested in the back stage production.

 These video blogs have brought memories of her back in force.  How she would have loved the scope and wonder of the Rings and the Hobbit!  The intricacies involved in costuming especially would have drawn her in.  I was amazed to see the actors and then the dwarves they became.  Because there were 13 of them and they were the ‘stars’ of the show, their costumes involved foot after foot after foot of costumes for the myriad of scenes and actions.  Transforming them from men into dwarves required several hours of make-up.  I enjoyed watching the process.  Linda would have loved the wigs and prosthetics and actual make-up to achieve coloring that would film correctly!

The set requirements were extensive.  Hobbiton was built of polystyrene for the Rings movies.  For The Hobbit it was built of real materials on site then left for tourists to experience.  The intricate planning and construction was breath taking.  And of course, not everything could be filmed on site so there were acres it seemed of sites constructed on the production lots—the goblin caves, Elrond’s house, the interior of Bilbo’s hobbit-hole.  And they were all intricate to the last detail. It took my breath away.  I could envision Linda involved in each and every part of it, whichever allowed her talents for drawing, painting and creating effects.

For the very first time I caught a glimpse of the reason for her fascination with behind the scenes work for the theater and, by extension, movies. 

Linda Mitchell, you were loved and remembered fondly.