Here’s a pretty lady under a goddamn buffalo. Hope it’s screwed in good. Don’t bother me, I’m finishing a book. (See the revised About page.) Just a few more days!
Must be bigger ones inside
This is also Cimarron, New Mexico. You think you’ve seen it all and then some artist years ago (?) produced this and you intersect. I may have seen a gallery at the other end, which stands to reason. Fascinating place. At 11:00 a.m. on Sunday morning, the big wide street was quite deserted, by the way.
The larger wheel is quietly sublime. I need to go back there and look around some more, get close-ups of the art. Maybe the guy or woman is still there. Maybe all they do is make these wheels and levitate Cimarron late at night. You’d hardly notice anyway if you were driving through.
For some reason this photo makes me want a cinnamon roll
I love this picture. Notice the New Mexico state colors. I’m also thinking that it’s quite a deal for a town of fewer than a thousand souls to even have a visitor center. And you see how bright it looks? How strong the sun must be? Well, it was, but by 11:00 a.m. Sunday morning, the temperature was still under 70 °F with a pretty good breeze. All you need for June or any other month, though the women may desert you if you roll the window down too far.
Looks like the dirt could use some soil amendments, though
It’s rough, I know, but sometimes there must be sacrifices. I shot this from the parking lot at the Cimmaron Visitor’s Center, which in fairness only has space for maybe half a dozen cars. There’s plenty of space on both sides of the street, however, and yes, I know it’s Sunday. It strikes me this approach may have been a good approach to deterring Comanche raiders in the old days, except the signs hadn’t been invented yet. This is echt northeast New Mexico, at any rate.
One sees individuals riding horses down the road in Taos every now and then but never a sign like that. We do freedom differently on our side of the mountains, plus you can park as long as you want so long as you keep feeding the meter.
These were very calm. Took note of camera shutter noise, but that was all. More down the street!
We were driving around Cimarron (pop. 888) and wondering why almost every house, no matter how poor—and there are a lot of those—had some kind of fence around it. As we came around this corner, the answer suddenly was obvious! It only takes one visit from a pair like this to send you down to Walmart or your favorite garden store to get new flowers and veggie plants. In Cimarron, that means an eighty-mile round-trip to Raton.
These deer could easily clear that fence, of course. (At least I think so.) But animals are smarter than we give them credit for.
“Honey, did you remember to shut the gate?”
We watched two of them go in right here. Nobody yelled or screamed. For all I know, the owners might put out bowls of deer chow leading to the garage instead of bothering to grocery shop. Forty miles to Raton, right? Or maybe they just like them.
We did.
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