Last week I pointed the front bumper of my truck south from Steamboat Springs and by sunset, as the full moon rose, I was parked safely outside of Taos, New Mexico. Two days later, Cass and I moved into a little adobe house in San Cristobal. New Mexico is known as the “Land of Enchantment,” and there is a sign at the end of our road that reads, “Enchanted Circle.” There is magic here, and somehow, it seems we landed in the midst of it.
It goes against my better judgment to take the first place I look at, but as the landlord showed us the little cabin and told us about the property, virtually all of the things on our mental checklists got checked off. He told us we could grow our own food, keep bees and even livestock. These aren’t on the immediate horizon, but with really cheap rent, if we did grow our own food we could live for almost nothing. I must admit, the fact that D.H. Lawrence and Aldous Huxley used to live on this property didn’t hurt either.
It is well known that this region attracts artist. I’m starting to think that Taos makes artists. The land here feels like a well stocked pantry of creativity. Often I feel that I have to bring my own ingredients for creativity, but here there are so many around I just reach out my hands and toss whatever I can grab into the creative cauldron. It smells good as it simmers. I don’t know what it will taste like. It may be just be a soup stock for a future creation.
The shadows are lengthening and the coffee shop will soon close. Perhaps I’ll stop at the little hot spring bubbling out of the rocks along the Rio Grande seven miles from our house. Maybe I’ll just go home and try to decipher the Raven’s language as they shout at each other from the trees around the house. Either way, I intend to make sure that New Mexico is living up to its motto.
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