Put me in a house out here, it’s go to hell, you friggin’ butterflies, I’m watching eagles here! And that’s not all, oh no. The Rio Grande Gorge is in the distance, but the canyon of the Rio Pueblo lies just out of sight below. Could be bears and mountain lions prowling by to look for bighorn sheep or elk, shamans riding UFOs up out of secret caves… And at night, what would you NOT see in the heavens?
People also shoot machine guns out there somewhere—yes, I’ve heard them—so there’s that, I guess. These places are pretty much unsuited for a “normal” life, at any rate: exposed to wind and storms, rotten Internet, no mail delivery, and so on. Make your own electricity, catch water from the roof. Half an hour from the supermarket, yada-yada. But once you’ve seen it, been there, awakened to total silence in the morning—even if living by a stargate drove you mad and you ran screaming to Dubuque, how could you not keep coming back to get another jolt?!
Speaking for myself, I know.
(And still I miss the green, green grass.)