I’ve picked up a great butterfly collection on my deer-catcher, likewise an excellent display of squashed bug guts on my windshield.
It’s not far from Deming to the mountains. You can head to Mimbres to see the pueblos, maybe go to the cliff dwellings. You’re in Mimbres country, an Apache colony that excelled in pottery. The museum in Silver City is an “Oh fuck” experience when it comes to the pottery. And the museum in Deming is equally impressive.
But, driving around in the mountains, across the open ranges, through the desert it looked active. Here and there were RV’s parked in seemingly nowhere, maybe a pickup or two nearby. It’s round-up time, time to find and extract the cattle from the mountains and bring them down to my level for the winter.
I like roundups. They really are done by cowboys on horseback, dogs do the most of the work, sorting and branding occurs like in the movies. It’s the odd agreement between reality and the cowboy movies of the fifties.
It also says winter is coming to the mountains in New Mexico. Time to go down a thousand feet or so…