The Caballo Mountains to the south of Truth or Consequences display a truly astounding cross section of earth’s time; rock layers begin in the Precambrian and continue through the present. Geological time travel: dinosaurs and coral reefs, fern forests and redwood trees, mammoth hunters and atomic bomb builders.
It’s really no wonder that time does not exist in this town – we are but momentary guests in this desert oasis. Experimenters in living: trailers and gardens. Craft essential. Fermentation and broken homes walking again. Expressions of radical identity, intentional or not. Randomness. The inkling we too should live the path of endless migration like the Sandhill Cranes.
Beer, finally! Floater houses. Hotel beds and daydreams of refurbished adobe. Eclipses and the rainbow season. Oh! he rainbow season. Mad Max motor bikes with chopper handle bars and chainsaw motors. Algorithms and targeted digital advertising. Lamp-making, now there is an idea: Fiat Lux!
Friendships and tribulations yield stronger bonds and family: river float, potluck, hot springs, bbq and beer (perfect summer day). The blinding white light of 116 degrees Fahrenheit: June. Rattlesnakes and mosquitoes. Oryx, elk, mountain lion, deer, mountain goats, turkeys, coyotes and javelinas. Tarantulas. Bob Cats.
Scrawls on a rock and spray paint on a wall: lore and myth making. Blossoming community, ethos, identity. New voices echoing up and down the Rio Grande rift; mountains rise, valleys sink. We articulate stories and birth future artifacts with our bare hands. No longer murdering mammoths with Clovis points but still in awe of nature.
We etch our story upon this intergalactic oasis; time traveling the eons among fossils vibrating ever so slightly in dance as they know our gaze is upon the piercing crystalline stars in still primal deserted darkness. We are temporarily tethered nomads enshrining mythologies onto the grand arc of time and place which is this bend in the river, heated by sleepy super volcanoes.