One thing – OK, maybe it is the main thing – that I like about the desert is the way everything’s spiky. It’s like it doesn’t really care if you visit or not, but if you do, it’ll be on the desert’s terms and not yours. No soft grass to lie in or any of that sort of thing. I mean, even the fence sections are pointed…
The forecast was for snow, and I was looking forward to seeing this part of the state under a thin white layer. The idea of it fit the vision in my head images I wanted to bring back from a quick trip to the northern part of the Texas Panhandle.
There wasn’t any snow, not even the tiniest flake. But the next best thing – fog! – hung around all day long, giving me lots of chances to make gloomy images in the fragile light, like this vaguely heart-shaped wire holding together a fence.
Gray County, Texas
The walk from the parking area up to the sacred church has a chain link fence on one side where people leave crosses and other items woven into the wire. On my most recent visit, as I stood looking at the artifacts and to the building beyond, I let me eyes focus on the distance, which blurred the fence and its contents. And I made a photo.
Later, the blurry crosses and the diamonds of the fence started to make me think of women’s hats, that kind with the dotted-net veil, and this scene started to feel like what the world would look like from behind a hat veil.
I know. None of this makes any sense: welcome to the way my mind wanders around.
El santuario de Chimayó
Chimayó, New Mexico