My father had been telling me all about New Mexico throughout my childhood. When he was a free spirited bohemian writer, he had spent seven years there. As the back seat of my van slowly turned into a sauna..I was beginning to lose touch of the glory behind his stories. The sun. The heat. My sweaty ass. The warm water. These were the things I could think about. But when I stepped out into the welcome center at Boca Negra Canyon in Albuquerque, New Mexico…my journey had begun. I climbed up the rocks and could put my hands on ancient drawings from lives so far removed from mine…it’s difficult to envision. Scraping away at a rock for the purposes of leaving a mark that will last…this scene plays out in my head as I climb higher. Up at the top of the ledge, I could see Albuquerque. A beautiful city. Despite the desert. Walking down the path back to my van, I saw a jack rabbit. I had never seen a jack rabbit before; but I instantaneously knew that THAT was what this thing was. Leaping before me, looking just like a dog sized rabbit, it dawned on me that I was at the mercy of nature in a place like this. Nature and history.
By: Elizabeth Seward