A Visit to the Bosque del Apache

The Bosque del Apache ("forest of the Apache") is a National Wildlife Refuge that straddles the Rio Grande in central New Mexico. My first question, when I read that the refuge is an arid wetland, was: Where does the water come from? Our Rio Grande is not so grande in these drought years, and seeing all that water is a rare and delightful experience for us desert dwellers. Here is the explanation from the Southwest Region Fish and Wildlife Service:

The heart of the Refuge is about 12,900 acres of moist bottomlands--3,800 acres are active floodplain of the Rio Grande and 9,100 acres are areas where water is diverted to create extensive wetlands, farmlands, and riparian forests.

To visit the Bosque in the fall is a delight - the cottonwoods have turned a bright gold; the air is warm enough for shirtsleeves, yet cool in the shade; and there is water everywhere. That would be enough to make a wonderful outing, but the real point of going at this time of year is to see the Sandhill Cranes, Ross' Geese, and Snow Geese, as well as thousands of ducks and migratory birds.

As we drove in to the Refuge, this was our first breathtaking look at geese resting in the shallow water.

There were geese in the water and the sky for as far as the eye could see. 

On the other side of the river, we came across small groups of Sandhill Cranes feeding in the water and in the fields. Crops of alfalfa and corn are planted in the refuge, then the alfalfa is harvested and the corn left for the birds.

We were just a week late for the best cottonwood color, but the trees were still lovely. That metal contraption in the foreground of the above photo is part of an irrigation gate on one of the ditches. 

This field was full of sandhill cranes gathering at the end of the day. Too bad I wasn't using a telephoto lens--all of these photos were taken with my iPhone.

If you would like to see the amazing photo winners from the recent Festival of the Cranes photo contest, click here. To hear the incredible sound of thousands of geese "flying out" in the morning, check out this recording from the Friends of the Bosque.

For even more photos and news, you can friend "Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge" on Facebook. They have recent posts showing the rescue of some mule deer fawns from a water-filled ditch, and a trail camera shot of a mother mountain lion and her frolicking kitten.

At the new visitor center, you can buy CDs to play in your car for an audio tour of the refuge, or you can download the seasonal tours for free on this page, put them on your iPod and play them through your car speakers as you drive along.

Ghost Town

Last summer we took a ride up to Lake Valley, located in Sierra County. There were no lakes to be seen, of course - this is New Mexico and water is pretty much a rarity. The valley was apparently named for ancient lake beds long gone.

Such big empty spaces

It was a beautiful wide open space, appearing pretty empty to the casual eye. There were few signs of people, other than the couple of cars we passed along the road and the ever-present stock fences. We saw a roadrunner (our state bird) and a few distant cattle. When we stopped the car, the only sound was the breeze through the grass; all else was hot and still.

It hasn't always been that way. Back in the late 1800s a huge silver deposit was found at one end of the valley. There are stories told that the silver was so pure that it could be loaded from the mine into railroad cars and taken straight to the mint with no need of smelting.

Enlarge this photo to read a bit of town history

Gone

Old safe

Sign creaking in the wind

 All that's left now is a ghost town, with just a few buildings still standing, but there were once 4,000 people living in Lake Valley. Saloons, churches (way more saloons than churches), a school, stores, a hotel, and houses once stood here. With not a single tourist in sight, you are free to sit in the shade and imagine what it might have been like in its heyday.

If you would like to read more about the ghost town, you can check out these links, or just google "Lake Valley, NM ghost town:"

- A page from the New Mexico Ghost Towns website: http://www.ghosttowns.com/states/nm/lakevalley.html 

- Bureau of Land Management site, gives directions and information for visitors: http://www.blm.gov/nm/st/en/prog/recreation/las_cruces/lake_valley_townsite.html 

- Official Bureau of Land Management Brochure, with some historical photos: http://www.blm.gov/pgdata/etc/medialib/blm/nm/programs/recreation/rec_docs/rec_docs_las_cruces.Par.30236.File.dat/Lake%20Valley%20Brochure.pdf 

New Day in November, for Skywatch

City-light diamond necklace at the throat of the mountains

Twinkles, then winks off

The wind chime hangs very, very still

A shiver-cold desert night is ending

Scarlet fingers from the rising sun

Reach up, into a warming sky

Distant dogs bark up into the orange pink gold light

Coyote gives one last commanding howl, and

The November day is born

*****

For sky photos from all over the world, be sure to visit Skywatch Friday.

Spooky Tales from New Hampshire and New Mexico

This is re-post from 2008.

Since the October chill is in the air and we are all drawing a little closer to our fireplaces in the evening, what better time is there to remind you of some ghostly stories found on The Zees Go West?

The tales start out with the strange happenings in our old Colonial home in New Hampshire, and continue out west with us to New Mexico, where the wide open expanses and lonely dark roads give rise to the spookiest tales of all--the skinwalker stories of the Navajos. Click on any title to read the tale. Don't be scared...

Creepy back hall in the 1770 house

From The House on High Street; Living in an Antique Colonial:

Meeting the Laundry Ghost

Bumps in the Night

Skinwalker Tales:

Skinwalker Tales: Introduction, definition, and the story of the newspaper delivery woman

Skinwalker Tales, Part 2: Anglo encounters with skin walkers

Skinwalker Tales, Part 3: A shapeshifter dog, a dog snatched up by a skinwalker, and a shapeshifter in the bathtub

Skinwalker Tales, Part 4: The strange creature on the cliff

Skinwalker Tales, Part 5: Living with a Navajo witch

Skinwalker Tales, Part 6: Chased by a skinwalker on the way home from a party (ever notice how many skinwalker sightings happen on the way home from a party?)

Skinwalker Tales, Part 7: Tales from the City-Data New Mexico Forum

Not Socks! Look What I Made

I finally knit something that wasn't a sock! My sister, Auntie Bucksnort, models the shrug I knitted for her. 

I used Malabrigo Sock Yarn in the Caribeno colorway. The shrug took less than one skein, which contains 440 yards. 

The Dream Shrug instructions can be found here, so you can make one too! You just knit a rectangle with sleeve ribbing at each end, stitch up the sleeve seams, then make a five-inch ribbing around the body opening. Either side can be worn up. The lace has lots of give so the whole garment is fairly stretchy and very comfortable. It's the perfect cover-up for air-conditioned rooms.

Note: The ripple pattern is worked over a multiple of 18 stitches. The directions call for 54 stitches cast on; because I wanted three ripple pattern repeats instead of the two in the original pattern, I cast on an additional 18 stitches for a total of 72. After the sleeve ribbing, I decreased the total stitches down to 54, which gave me the three ripple pattern repeats of 18 stitches each. That sounds more complicated than it is when you actually do it. Trust me.

Shopping for Supper, the Way the French Do

We thought we were prepared for our stay in France. We had translator apps all set up in our phones,  we had special European coverage so that we would be able to use them, we arranged to have Euros on hand, and we had a wonderful navigator thingy in our rented diesel Peugeot. 

However, I'm afraid that as novice European travelers, we simply didn't know what we didn't know. Out in the French countryside, very few folks spoke any English. No problem: We turned to our phones for some handy phrases. Oops, no coverage as promised: Phones didn't work. 

Then came the problem of finding something to eat. Okay, we had plenty of Euros but we simply could not find a supermarket, or anything resembling one. We found the occasional small village store, but they were never open when we were hungry. It seems that family mealtime is very important to the French and they all go home for hours in the middle of the day. When we were finally able to get into one of the little stores, they had what we would consider emergency supplies only. Obviously, the French were well fed and fond of their food, but where the heck were they finding any?

We eventually worked it out. We knew that there were occasional open air markets held here and there and the thoughtful folks who rented the house to us had left a schedule of which town hosted the market on which day. We were picturing American-style farmers markets, which we use to supplement the big weekly shopping we do at the supermarket. Apparently, the French buy the bulk of their food at these outdoor markets. 

And is it ever fresh!  If you will scroll back up to the top photo, you will see a gentleman carrying a cardboard box back to his car. We had no idea at the time that it contained his monthly supply of poultry, still on the hoof! A kindly vendor explained to us--he had a little broken English and we had less and far-more-fractured French, but we worked it out. He told us that those in the know arrive early at this monthly market, famous for its poultry, held in the ancient town of Lencloitre. Thousands of chickens, geese, guineas, doves, quails, and ducks are sold out in the first hour or so. People carry their boxes of live poultry back to their cars, then return to finish the rest of their shopping in a more leisurely fashion. 

I guess those little feathered guys provide fresh meals for the family until the next monthly market. No plucked and cut-up and sanitarily packaged chicken for these folks!

I liked the way the greens were hung so the ducklings (goslings?)
had to reach for their food, giving them a little exercise in those crowded cages

The chicken guys were able to handle six to ten chickens at a time by grabbing their legs

You got the sense that these weren't like the coddled backyard chickens of America--I'm talking about the ones that get names like Peckatina (to mention a girl we all know and love)

After the family's poultry supply had been squared away, people had time to look over the bedding plants...

... and saddles, clothing, shoes, fresh fish (dead, but fresh), oysters, eels, lovely cheeses, all kinds of charcuterie (as we learned, these are bacon, ham, sausage, terrines, galantines, pâtés, and confit), eggs of every sort, breads and all kinds of pastries, vegetables, fruits, and wine.

Oh, yes. We mustn't forget the mandoline man. He demonstrated his slicer with a deftness that had to be seen to be believed. He chopped, he minced, he julienned, and he grated. He made dangly earring-shaped decorations from zucchinis (of course he called them courgettes). He was charming. He knew he had a sucker with this American tourist (who was thinking nostalgically of the Deerfield Fair in New Hampshire). I couldn't tear myself away until I bought the miracle-working slicer and all its accompanying attachments ("only" 20€). Of course, it came in a sealed box with no instructions. We haven't managed to make it slice a thing yet but, on a positive note, we haven't chopped off our fingers, either. 

He minced, he charmed

Although we didn't buy anything that was still alive, we were so proud that we had finally figured out how to buy food! And wine! Lots and lots of wine!

I know I've shown you this photo before, but it's my best food photo ever. 

Time to Eat

When you're married to Beez, it's always time to eat, and there's no better place to eat than at Sparky's in Hatch, New Mexico. We like the ride to get there, and we like the green chile cheeseburgers and the red chile mango shakes. 

Sorry about the thumb

There's lots to look at, inside and outside Sparky's, while you wait for your food to be served.

Today, I'm showing you some inside views of the place. If you want to see outside views, click here, or here, or here. Sometimes there is even some fine musical entertainment. I always take some photos while we're wandering around the place.

If you're in New Mexico, you probably already know the way to Hatch, home of the famous Chile Festival. If you live somewhere else, you'd better come on down for some sunshine, unforgettable food, and good times.

A Day in the 12th Century

The medieval city from below (photo by my son, Ben)

One of the first places we visited while in France last summer was the town of Chauvigny in the Vienne department of Poitou-Charente. The medieval part of the town is on a hill, and it contains the ruins of several castles:  "Château des Eveques (‘baronial chateau'), the 'Chateau d'Harcourt', the 'donjon de gouzon', and the chateau de Montleon."

We spent the morning wandering around the narrow passageways. I was surprised to find that some of the houses were still occupied and that garages had been built into what might have once been stables. Adding to the mixture and ancient and modern, the 12th century donjon (great tower) had a rebuilt stairway lit by modern skylights; and we could see the cooling towers of a nuclear plant in the distance. 

Narrow little passageway

People still live inside the castle walls

Small cars can just make it down these narrow passages.
Note the garages to the right, and the old drain that goes down the middle of the pavement

I loved the views out over the old roofs

The Church of St. Pierre

This is a modern sculpture outside the workshop of one of the resident artisans who work on the ongoing preservation and repair of the buildings

This modern sculpture sits on the stairs leading to the castle keep

Amid all the ancient walls and roofs you can see a bit of modern glass skylight

Look closely: In the distance you can spot the twin towers of the nearby Civaux Nuclear Power Plant

Looking down at the small streets and ancient roofs; I couldn't get enough of scenes like these

More roofs in another direction. Interestingly enough, you could hardly tell where the walled city ended and the newer city began, because the styles remained so much the same.

Our House, Part 2

Sunrise over the Organ Mountains

I told you the story of how we found our New Mexican adobe house in Our House, Part 1, leaving off at the point where we bought a house without any working heating system right at the beginning of the winter. Were you worried about us? With a view like the one above from the big patio, who cared that there was no heat? This was the desert, so who needs heat anyway?

Well, anyone who has ever lived at 4000 feet in the high desert knows that heat is pretty important--keeping the outside heat out during the summer, and keeping the inside heat in during the winter. Since Beez had stayed behind in Clovis to finish up a job before retirement, my sister and I moved into the unheated house in early November. Although it was warmish during the day, the nights were pretty nippy and it wasn't long before we started burning packing paper in the fireplaces, then torn-up cardboard boxes, and then fallen tree twigs and branches from the yard. As soon as we found a good source, we got some real firewood delivered and learned a lot about making fires in the two kiva fireplaces. 

The big kiva in the living room, with a batch of bread dough rising on the hearth.
There is a smaller kiva in the next room. The front part of the house had an ancient gas-fired wall heater that the heating man disconnected as soon as he saw it, saying it was a fire hazard.

Kivas are wonderful. If you get a good steady fire going during the day, the adobe mass radiates stored heat into the room during the night. Of course, we eventually got a shiny new wall heater installed in the front part of the house and a heat exchanger in the back part of the house. However, my sister and I both have some fond memories of our times huddled around the adobe hearth. 

You will notice that even with our new heating systems installed, we still do not have central heating. Silly me, I grew up in a brand new [mid-century] suburban house and thought that all American houses had central heating. Apparently not in New Mexico, where the traditional adobe houses have no duct work. Because the adobe brick walls are thick and solid, even our electrical outlets are not set into them, and the electricity between the outlet boxes is sent along some kind of external wiring conduit that I'd rather not think about. 

The dining room, complete with cat on table. Say hello to Gracie!

But you can't beat our house for that cozy cottage feeling. Our wood floors (found under the carpeting that we couldn't wait to rip out) are properly creaky, the windows are set into thick adobe walls, the rooms just glow with lamplight, and the place smells deliciously of the fragrant juniper wood burning in the kiva.

My heart is very happy here.

Adobe sunrise