4-11-10, White Lakes, NM - It would impossible to adequately describe the vista before me, but I値l try my best. I知 camped on the north side of a hill, with the mountains of Northern New Mexico spread across the horizon before me. The snow line is above 9000 feet, so only a smattering of peaks have a shiny white crest. Spread below the wagon, the ground is about 500 feet lower then our perch, and broken with ridges of red rock. Closer in, the dark green of the ten to twenty foot high Juniper and Pinion trees stand in dark contrast to the sheer blue sky. Still closer, the horses are bedded down on last year痴 growth of blue gramma and buffalo grass. The grass grows in clumps, along with some two foot high, gray sage brush, in a rough red clay soil, with pieces of broken shale imbedded in it. As sun is setting, changing shadows are constantly casting a different hue on everything.
I find it difficult to concentrate on writing this journal, as my eyes keep moving to the gorgeous view around me. The team are finished with the first of their hay, and are grazing on the old grass. Ever so often, they too stop and fixate on their surroundings. If you asked them, they would just say that they池e digesting their food; but, I know differently.
I am aware that overexposure to a beautiful scenery can jade the viewer to the ambiance, but I知 still filled with wonder that so many people are zooming by in their cars, and not stopping to gaze in the majesty of what they see.