Hermosa

In honor of the group of students who just returned from the New Mexico portion of Furman University's Wild Semester, I have edited and reposted this piece I wrote during my experience living for twelve weeks in the ghost town of Hermosa.


Idyllic. That is what comes to mind every time I think about my temporary home in Hermosa, New Mexico. We wake up with the sun every day, early in the morning, which isn't actually anything as bad as I might have expected. In fact, its quite nice. No, more than that, its freaking awesome to wake up each morning and see the clouds painted yellow and purple by the rising sun, to see the tops of far off mountains glowing a faint red as the light hits them, before I can even catch a glimpse of the sun over the eastern mountains. I love being able to walk out onto the back porch and look out across our backyard and see mountains ringed around me, surrounding me, dominating the landscape on every side, sharp peaks and flat topped ridges and rounded domes jutting into the sky, punctuating the horizon. I love looking out the dining room window and seeing horses and mules nonchalantly wandering by, their owners having let them roam and graze wherever they please. Fortunately for us, wherever they please just happens to be ten feet away from where we eat dinner.
          I love the routine, the simplicity of life at Hermosa. We cook our own food, clean our dishes, and have class.  Every day we learn more about the animals and plants that inhabit the land around us, the global patterns that create climate variation between deserts and grasslands and deciduous forests, and the history of America's efforts (or lack thereof) in the field of conservation. We become acquainted with the general skull shapes of different mammalian families, and we gain hands on experience in loading up pack mules for long hikes.  We catch a variety of rodents and get a taste of taxidermy when we learn how to make museum specimens.  And when we are not doing those things, we are free to wander wherever we wish, whenever we feel like it.

          We can explore the mountains and cliffs around Hermosa to our hearts content, combining a childlike curiosity and sense of adventure with a biologist's knowledge and yearning to learn more and understand more about the natural world. I love being able to look up at the sky at night and see thousands of stars twinkling merrily above me, as if they are laughing at some private cosmic joke I could never possibly understand. I love looking up and for the first time truly being able to see the milky way, not just as a faint, cloudy smudge in the sky but as thousands of stars squeezed into a clear shimmering belt across the deep blue midnight sky, stretching from one horizon to the other. I love walking outside on night with a full moon and seeing the moon-shadows of the trees dark against the mountains, which seem to glow softly in the moonlight. I love watching storm clouds roll in over the western mountains, dark and ominous, growing larger and larger as they loom closer to Hermosa. Occasionally the clouds will let forth a torrent of water, but these downpours usually only last for a brief 15 minutes. At other times the clouds may only allow a sprinkling of rain, and yet this light shower may last for an hour or more. And still other days the rains may never come, and the ominous clouds pass by overhead without so much as a drop to soothe the parched and sandy earth.

          I love the sounds of banjo and guitar and mandolin and violin and enthusiastic singing that can be heard at all hours of the day, the music echoing throughout Hermosa and the hills surrounding it. I love the loud discordant clanging of the triangle that signals that the meals are ready, and the cheerfulness and contentment of the people who all sit down together to eat. I love being able to relax in hammocks with friends, talking and singing as the sun silently disappears behind the mountains, the full bright colors of the day changing to the red, orange, and yellow of sunset before fading to black, gray, and white like a photograph fading before your eyes. I love sitting around a big campfire, listening to and reading the essays of Aldo Leopold, his words coming alive in your mind, painting beautiful and detailed portraits of life as it once was, and perhaps in some ways as it still should be. In short, I love life at Hermosa, and I am so thankful that I got the opportunity to come here and have this experience, and I am continually in awe of the wonders of God's creation.