Fine Art Images from the American Southwest

Month: October 2018

Night Before And The Morning After

The night before and the morning after. Pulled into our driveway yesterday evening to this beautiful light on the fall color. The image below is this same location in the driveway this morning. Thanks for looking. G

Evening Light

The night before.

Morning Snow on Fall Colors

The morning after.

National Monument Day Out

National Monument day out. Days out on the road are memorable, some days more so than others. In the Rio Grande del Norte National Monument around Ute Mountain it can be sublimely memorable. The silence is palpable; the peace and tranquility immeasurable and the history is no further than I am able to imagine. Thanks for looking. G

National Monument Day Out

Colors Of Fall In The Arroyo Hondo Valley

Colors of fall in the Arroyo Hondo Valley, northern New Mexico. Although I pass this spot on the map almost every day, most certainly when I go into town, it’s a joy to see the colors begin to intensify each fall to their absolute peak. Similarly, watching them fade slowly to the other end of the fall color spectrum is equally noteworthy. It has been an incredible fall in northern New Mexico and it’s not over yet. Ask anyone you meet, they’ll agree. I hope you do, and thank you, as always, for looking. G

Colors Of Fall in The Arroyo Hondo Valley

Encounter Over The Fence

Encounter with a mule deer doe, over the fence in San Cristobal, NM. A poem by Robert Frost comes to mind. It describes an encounter for two lovers, “Two look at Two.” I’ve posted the poem below. This very brief moment lasted an eternity. I studied Robert Frost in college. I was able to recite this poem, and others by the author, on command. This one, although I can no longer recite the whole piece from memory, resides in my very being and remembering the words verbatim seems redundant. My encounter, “One looked at One.”  Thanks for looking G

Encounter Over The Fence

Two Look At Two.

Love and forgetting might have carried them
A little further up the mountain side
With night so near, but not much further up.
They must have halted soon in any case
With thoughts of a path back, how rough it was
With rock and washout, and unsafe in darkness;
When they were halted by a tumbled wall
With barbed-wire binding. They stood facing this,
Spending what onward impulse they still had
In One last look the way they must not go,
On up the failing path, where, if a stone
Or earthslide moved at night, it moved itself;
No footstep moved it. ‘This is all,’ they sighed,
Good-night to woods.’ But not so; there was more.
A doe from round a spruce stood looking at them
Across the wall, as near the wall as they.
She saw them in their field, they her in hers.
The difficulty of seeing what stood still,
Like some up-ended boulder split in two,
Was in her clouded eyes; they saw no fear there.
She seemed to think that two thus they were safe.
Then, as if they were something that, though strange,
She could not trouble her mind with too long,
She sighed and passed unscared along the wall.
‘This, then, is all. What more is there to ask?’
But no, not yet. A snort to bid them wait.
A buck from round the spruce stood looking at them
Across the wall as near the wall as they.
This was an antlered buck of lusty nostril,
Not the same doe come back into her place.
He viewed them quizzically with jerks of head,
As if to ask, ‘Why don’t you make some motion?
Or give some sign of life? Because you can’t.
I doubt if you’re as living as you look.”
Thus till he had them almost feeling dared
To stretch a proffering hand — and a spell-breaking.
Then he too passed unscared along the wall.
Two had seen two, whichever side you spoke from.
‘This must be all.’ It was all. Still they stood,
A great wave from it going over them,
As if the earth in one unlooked-for favour
Had made them certain earth returned their love.

Robert Frost

Solitary Tree and Sun Fog

Solitary tree and the sun appearing as a disk through the fog. Although the fog was moving rapidly to the south (to the right of frame) it gave the impression that the sun was traveling at a high rate of speed northwards until the tree, motionless, reined it in. I could have watched it, mesmerizingly, four an hour. But standing in the road, entranced by this scene was not a good idea. Thanks for looking. G

Solitary Tree and Sun through the Fog

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Ojo Sarco, High Road To Taos

Ojo Sarco Valley church on the High Road to Taos. Surrounded by the tops of the colorful cottonwoods with a backdrop of the juniper and piñon hills and the snow covered Jicarita Peak. It was a splendid time to visit this area just after the first snowfall. Thanks for looking. G

Ojo Sarco, High Road to Taos

Morning Clouds San Cristobal, NM

Morning clouds rising over an old adobe home, cottonwoods and the national forest, in the San Cristobal Valley, NM. I went out to watch the moon set across the plateau. I decided to drive up into the foothills for a better view and found this scene in the valley. The moon had vanished into the clouds on the western horizon. This was the payoff. Thanks for looking. G

Morning Clouds San Cristobal, NM

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Clearing Storm, Sangre De Cristo Mountains, NM

Clearing storm, on the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, of northern NM. I don’t have to go very far from home to see a scene like this. It’s just a short walk down to the lower acreage. After a night of rain, that continued throughout today as well, it was great to watch the lingering clouds gradually lift and work their way along the ridge lines. When a momentary shaft of sunlight lit up some of peaks, I made a few images and called it a day. Thanks for looking. G

Clearing Storm, Sangre De Cristo Mountains, NM

Forest Road In The Sangre de Cristo Mountains

Forest road in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains of northern New Mexico. Walking around this grove I saw whole epistles carved into the tree trunks. Someone’s undying this or that. Pledges for life. Who loves who and on what date. Except the trees, they have to wear this brand for a long time until the words expand into scars no longer decipherable as any language. I wonder how many trees will outlive the relationships professed to here in the woods. Thanks for looking. G


Chapel of San Cristóbal, New Mexico

Chapel San Cristobal, in the valley of San Cristobal, New Mexico. The Magpie knows a good spot when it finds it. The soft filtered sunset light attracted the Magpie and me. An evening drive through the village and foothills of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, softens the heart and nourishes the soul. Thanks for looking. G

Chapel San Cristobal