Our trip to New Mexico was everything I hoped it would be, which is saying a lot.
We arrived in a dust storm and saw our first tumbleweed before we got off the plane. (Or should I say, before we de-planed. How often do you get to use that word?)
In Santa Fe we bought turquoise on a cold, windy square in the afternoon, and lounged in a Japanese-style bath by moonlight. At Ghost Ranch Abiquiu we hiked through painted desert and red rock formations, soaking in the sun like lizards. We got massages with hot stones.
We held tumbleweed races on the mesa. We gazed through a telescope at Mars and Saturn. We drove our rental SUV to Christ of the Desert Monastery, 13 miles off the hard road, where we sang Gregorian chants with 30 monks on Maundy Thursday.
On Good Friday we were pilgrims in Chimayo, joining hundreds of people for the last 2 miles of a 30+ mile pilgrimage from Santa Fe. After the final turn, the square around the chapel felt like the State Fair and we indulged in sno-cones while we stood in line. When it was our turn, we worshiped at the santuario and scooped some holy dirt, reputed to have healing powers.
Healing, all of it. Land of Enchantment, indeed.