~:: Santa Fe: Pt.5 ::~

Being swaddled.  An odd shot.  Whose toes do you suppose those are?

Sandy at breakfast.

You will, perhaps, remember the great fires in Arizona and New Mexico this summer.  One of them was just northwest of Santa Fe.  We didn’t see it on the way down, but we saw sign of it later.  The one astonishingly beautiful thing that results of fires like these: the sky is full of ash and dust and silt and smoke, and the sun descending lights them all to fire in the sky.  I had noticed smoke on the mountain early that evening.  But my first hint of what was to come was this golden light that came streaming through the west window, catching Chaz in its glory.

Enter: the sunset.  From the same road as the last series.  Much changed.

The flip side of the sky.  No hint of the color to the northwest.

meanwhile –

Again, to the southeast.

Here again you see the gradual infiltration of dark lilac –

Sun is gone.  Smoke still rising.  Clouds like anger, rising into the dome of heaven.

Back toward the houses across the wash.

Light breaks through and burns.

Front gate in the evening.

Murphy, caught in silhouette against the sunset on the other side of the house, streaming in one window, through the house and out here.

Almost finished.

Again, the glow of the buff stucco against the blue of evening.

We take Sully out for a jog under this sky, heading away from the sun.  Hoping we don’t find a coyote or snake or – anything else.

And then we notice the shadows.  And decide we, ourselves, will become petroglyphs:

Then, it’s time to go back in.  Amazing how a camera can show you what your eyes can hardly make out in the coming dark.

And this is the end of our being there record.