Showing posts with label natureVersusTourism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label natureVersusTourism. Show all posts

Friday, June 23, 2017

The Fresh Promise of a New Day

The birds start their days between 0450 and 0500. How sensible they are! There is just enough light to see the outlines of the mountains, yet a planet or two is still visible. Dawn is always like this; fresh and full of promise.

If I had a tripod I might try to photograph dawn. But that may be the wrong approach. The appeal of dawn is only partly visual.The other senses awaken. Most of all, the imagination awakens.

Nobody at the campground is up. They sleep through the best part of the day. What are they thinking -- that it is too cold at dawn? There are no mosquitoes at this time of the day, and that is no small advantage. Colorado is not a bug-free state like New Mexico. There is no wind at this time of the day. No rain.

But the true miracle of dawn is that the world is not over-populated. Still, I would like to see a lonely campfire, making some cowboy coffee. I might even invite myself in and try to find out how that person thinks.



Tuesday, May 16, 2017

Defeating the Prevailing Tourist Culture

Stepping out of your camper early on a cool windy morning, you don't expect to be greeted by a slithering rattlesnake. But there it was, sidewinding its way from the tow vehicle to my trailer door. Of course, it could have been a bull snake, but I didn't have time to ask questions. It was strange how purposeful and sentient its behavior seemed.

I chased it underneath the trailer. I cringed when it wrapped itself around the axle and then expanded its circle to fill up the inside of the wheel. Hey wait a minute, don't I have holes in the floor? This snake was becoming alarming.

I kept chasing the snake with rocks, a broom, and then a (short!) mattock. He knew I was after him. When I circled around him, he would turn his head to face me, head on. He also retracted into a multiple-sigmoid shape, and struck at me, several times. Finally the mattock cut him in half.

But he didn't die right away. He lacked rattles, so perhaps he was a noble bull snake, who is supposed to be the enemy of rattlers. (There wasn't time to check the internet to see if immature rattlers completely lack visible rattles at the end of their tail.) If I'd had a camera, a video could have zoomed in and recorded the death-throes of the snake. These were quite horrible. 

By now I was feeling guilty: I hadn't really killed anything other than insects since I was a high school lad who did a little hunting. Hunting didn't really interest me. It seemed like incompetent, amateurish assassination to merely pull the trigger on a powerful piece of technology. True hunting should be more chivalrous. Your foe should have a chance to fight back, and if you do manage to vanquish your valiant foe in a fair fight on the field of honour...

But let's not head off to a Sir Walter Scott novel. This fight with the snake occurred on the same day as the good conversation with the man who was filling his truck with the spring water. What a remarkable piece of luck it was to have experienced authentic and fundamental nature twice in one day. It shows that you shouldn't be too discouraged by the tourist kitsch of Taos or some such place.

How the tourists in Taos visualize Nature. (Except that the photo needs pretty butterflies and wildflowers.)