Seasons of 2025

Something I’ve noticed about aging is that many of our loved ones become more and more articulate about what makes them happy, as the passing years bring clarity beyond the hustle and bustle of workaday life. All the same, through lack of intent or opportunity, not everyone has yet become able to move towards their happiness, despite their ability to describe it better and better. If I had been told that my happiness would be bound up with barbed wire, I would have been dubious…. yet here we are….

Late fall and early winter we usually hunker down in Albuquerque to focus on home, holidays and family. Sometime mid-spring, we start watching the weather, trying to guesstimate if enough snow has dissipated so that the “mud” season has passed, and the county road may be clear enough to navigate.  Then we begin our excursions up north, each with a specific intent.

Our intent this spring was to welcome some close friends to our vision for MABC. Our friends and neighbors across the street, who had homesteaded in eastern New Mexico, and have provided us with bountiful encouragement and insight into fence rehabilitation, joined us early spring for a day of picnicking, touring, taking in the views, and clearing slash. A later spring visit brought our longtime friends and camping pals out for a tour with their dogs- turned out to be a bit too hot for the fur friend’s paws, something we hadn’t considered. But the views were stunning! We spent a couple spring days on top of the mesa, hunting for burn morels in the Indios fire scar and getting to know the back roads. Between day trips and bouncing back and forth to Ghost Ranch, we had a lovely spring, complete with Sego Lilies, pincushion cacti, and even a dip in the Chama. We envied rafters floating down the river and noted the name on the vans at the take out- Far Flung Adventures.

We had been able to grab an hour or two of work but had yet to put in a full day. By mid-summer, we were ready to load up and camp out. Kevin had healed enough that he could get in and out of the tent, and he had transitioned out of his previous job before returning to teaching, so we were enjoying a full two months off during prime camping season. We pitched camp and spent a day on the north fence, which remained uncut for the first time since we bought the property! Though it hadn’t been tampered with by humans, the posts had been leaned into by some large, heavy animals and so Kevin booted up and we righted them, overbuilding sections that seemed vulnerable to the bovine “lean”. We dared to dream the impossible dream that the next time we visited, the fence would be both uncut and upright.

Escaping the heat of the city, we found ourselves reveling in the cool breezes up on top of the mesa several times late summer and early fall. The Laguna fire had been extinguished, and we gingerly explored two summers’ fire scars. Both fires were on the northern and western edge of the wilderness, pushing wildlife southeast, right into our path- first we saw turkeys, and then a bear darted in front of our truck and up a tree! A subsequent weekend included bike foraging, camping and we gathered 23 pounds of puffballs! That same weekend, we walked the northern fence line, which borders the National Forest and has and it had remained intact all summer. So, at last, we boldly hung a “Private Property” sign on the northeast corner.

Fall beckoned us up to the top of the mesa to take in the golden aspen, and we had our traditional hot dog roast among the glow. We drove down to walk the fence- and the sign was still hanging, with nary a bullet hole! I wrestled with the barbed wire at the southeast corner, finally, triumphantly, albeit precariously, completing the span along the county road. We have at last realized our intent of fencing in our 12 acres- and fencing out the hooved locusts! We hope winter brings one more day trip dedicated to tucking in more grass and native plant seeds under the soft blanket of snow.