Intrusion
Current mood: 
cranky
Category: Blogging
Spent most of yesterday in a minor funk,
hanging on to the residual disturbance of the day before.
On that beautiful February day, I had
taken to the arroyo, as usual when weather permits; following my regular
route, which varies considerably, so as not to create a trail to mar the
landscape. For the third time in as many days, I had run out of space
on my memory stick before reaching my intended destination at the head
of the arroyo, where I know from experience, there exists a most
delicious grotto, ripe for photographing.
I had grown impatient with the dogs, whose
rambunctious exuberance -- usually a somewhat delightful accompaniment
to my rambling - was wreaking havoc with my photo experience. Every
flood pool, it seemed, was an iresistable playground for them. They were
tracking up my "good clean mud", stirring up the waters, and
it seemed like every shot I wanted, was interrupted by a furry dog butt.
Then I discovered that I had brought my usual "tobacco
offering", but had forgotten to bring fire. I decided to take the
quickest route back home, where I would quickly download and re-supply,
leave two of the five dogs behind, and resume my pleasant journey.
As I crested the mesa, and emerged from a
small stand of juniper and pinon trees, my heart sank. There stood a
camp in full regalia; a large green tent with metal stovepipe sticking
through the roof, a new-looking ATV, coolers in bright red and blue, and
trash. I walked in the open, so as not to give any impression of stealth
--which would have been quite impossible anyway, with five dogs leading
the procession. No one emerged from the tent to offer a greeting (or a
threat), and I climbed down from what I had come to think of as
"MY" territory, without encountering another person.
That afternoon, I heard repeated gunshots,
which sent all the dogs scrambling for safety indoors. There were so
many rounds fired, I was certain that the camper above home was target
practicing. I spent the rest of the day wondering how long the
intruder(s) would be occupying the mesa, and whether or not they might
be dangerous. From the look of the outfit, I guessed it would be an
extended occupation.
I spoke with a neighbor about the shooting,
wondering if it is legal. At home in Nevada, it is legal to shoot pretty
much anywhere, except within town limits (and some towns don't bother
about it much, when it does go on). I supposed that it's probably the
same in rural New Mexico.
And so, yesterday, I felt like a captive;
not free to wander the mesa and it's arroyo. I gave myself a good
talking to, all the while; reminding myself that I have no right to
detest the person(s) who have made their camp nearby. I should not
assume they are meth-makers or poachers; perhaps they are just
nature-lovers, like me? Can I forgive the ATV? A piece of my heart hopes
they will drive it over the cliff.
This morning, the arroyo beckoned, and I was
determined not to feel victimized and confined. I followed a completely
different route, this time along the eastern edge of the arroyo, so as
to avoid the camp on the west. I discovered that it is easier walking
than my usual climb, and there is a road that I had not known about,
right up to the edge of the grotto. I arrived with a nearly-full memory
card, took my time exploring around that piece of the gap -- I had
invited only two dogs, knowing these would stay close by me. I came home
quietly and safely, with a few good shots.
Tomorrow, perhaps I will head out in
another direction entirely. I know it's likely that I shall find
treasures to report on the riverbank, just as marvelous as those in the
arroyo, or up on the mesa .... I will try not to harbor a resentment. A
change of scenery will probably do me good.
