I spent the greater part of last week in the New Mexico mountain village of Cloudcroft.
Elevation: 8,600 feet above sea-level
My trusty camera came along with me, of course.
Although much of my time there was spent sawing, hammering, and hauling, I decidedly set time apart to absorb as much of the mountain into my lungs as I could. I hiked throughout the woods, I skated down mountain roads, I listened to the people. I breathed the air. You know you’re in a good place when you can relish in the simple joys of breathing.
By the door of the cabin I worked and slept in hangs an engraved plank of wood that reads, ” If you’re lucky enough to live in the mountains, you’re lucky enough.”
It’s an old plank, its light blue paint slowly dimming from the years of sunlight and mountain wind. Whoever wrote it knew the joys of breathing too.