Late Spring ’23

Rio Grande Gorge

The great rift valley of the Rio Grande south of Taos

Slowly building up my strength again, I hit the trails at dinner time to have the vastness to myself. The peaks in the far distance are over 40 miles away. Sometimes I see farther. The clarity cuts cleanly through the fog of thought and part of me is home.

WHEN I DROPPED OUT IN ARKANSAS IN ‘71, I never intended to come back either. I felt so close to secrets beyond my grasp and knew my path would open up in ways I couldn’t dream of. All I ever wanted was to drink from that clear stream forever. When winter came I realized I was unprepared and decamped for the thrills of pre-boom Austin, which I already knew quite intimately. But Austin proved to be too hot and bothered after several years—time to cut the cord again—so in ‘75 I packed up everything I owned and moved to Maine. I gave it a month, but it was cold and wet and everyone smoked cigarettes. Free housing at my granny’s place on the Eastern Shore of Maryland proved irresistible, however, so I headed south with welding gear, guitar, and faithful German shepherd to be a famous sculptor with no training. I soon fell in with local iconoclasts, met my future wife, and life exploded with a richness I’m astonished to recall. We moved down here in ‘99 and 22 years later she was gone. It still does not compute and I know less than ever. The only thing that sticks is that she told me “share the beauty and the joy” and this was after… Those obviously aren’t my words which makes them real and what a perfect mantra.

Flowers on an unmarked trail at Taos Valley Overlook

“Queen o’ the Mountains” (‘01 Dodge Dakota) beside the apricot tree in bloom

Adobe Hell in Llano Quemado

Inside looking out. “Old Taos” in spades.

High up in the mountains, Rio Pueblo flooding at Agua Piedra

Self-explanatory, also at Agua Piedra

Amazing colors on this side trail at Taos Valley Overlook

Wasn’t kidding…

One of my favorites

Evening walk at Taos Valley Overlook, Rio Grande del Norte National Monument

That’s it for now, take care. – JHF

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John Hamilton Farr lives at 7,000 feet in Ranchos de Taos, New Mexico, U.S.A. As New York Times best-selling author James C. Moore tells it, John is “a man attuned to the world who sees it differently than you and I and writes about it with a language and a vision of life that is impossible to ignore.” This JHFARR.COM site is the master writing archive. To email John, please see CONTACT INFO on About page. For a complete list of all John’s writing, photography, NFTs, and social media links, please visit JHFARR.ART  

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