"Who is the third who walks always behind you?
When I count, there are only you and I together,
But when I look ahead up the white road
There is always another one walking besides you.
Gliding, wrapped in a brown mantle, hooded."
~ Eliot’s ~ [The Waste Land]
I do not see and feel any glory in Wars. The word itself is a dark cloud depicting everything Humanity should not be. It is my own opinion without touching any sort of a political entity. Maybe it is my naive approach to how this Earth, World, Universe should be.
[quote] Few sites in the nation encompass the breadth of history seen at the Fort Stanton State Monument. Early cultures lived along the Bonito River, leaving behind rich archeological evidence of human occupation. Spanish and Mexican settlers established communities in the nearby area, long before the United States sent the military west to protect settlers journeying to the region from the indigenous Apache Indians who claimed the lands as their own. Named for Captain Henry W. Stanton, the Fort was established in 1855 and operated as a military fortification through 1896. [quote]
Should be. I know it is too late as now the Lion will eat the Lamb if the Lamb stays sheepish. We have to "defend" ourselves. What a concept. Is this how far we have come? And what a present distress and exasperation bothers me always has as in the above "Apache Indians who claimed the land as their own". Claimed? It "was" their land. Yet, I will go on and visit such spaces as Fort Stanton, and when I hear the cry of the Tour Guide or the person sitting at the Welcome desk, my own expression will never match his or hers.
Our own ways of camping collaborate those thoughts encompassing much respect for the land itself and too often while resting, a gaze from here to the horizons filled with images past which could have then in a not too far time been present. Fort Stanton was disturbing I must say and I probably would be the only one to think and say so. I felt it as being the counterpart of Freedom. An aspect today I myself more or less have while roaming the land. Where is the nobility to it? The praise, the dignity?
The story is long within this space which I could only see in black and white, with the winds present muffling the past turmoil and commotions. Empty and deserted on that day all was a bit eerie. The fortifications throughout the years end up serving many functions after 1896, after the land was finally protected from their original occupants, after I more see it as being stolen and invaded.
53 buildings, today empty, cobwebs, the power is off, the water is turned off, the doors are locked. It had also become the first Federal Tuberculosis Hospital. In World War II it also interned both German and Japanese. So much History I felt, so many walls to keep everyone present in and not out. Kit Carson lived here, John "Black Jack" Pershing, Billy the Kid, the Buffalo Soldiers of the 8th and 9th Cavalry. Some are still here in the near by Cemetery where we also stopped by.
My surroundings always affect me. The quietness of this almost a city in itself brought in unfortunately a somber mood and yet I wanted to feel it’s presence. I think I stayed a little too long, the waves of past images kept replaying their acts. What an ending I was witnessing. Nothing left but almost crumbling walls, a small Museum, the grass turning yellow and the winds blowing and blowing some more.
Returning to our "Three Rivers" campsite was as a breath of fresh air. On with cooking a dinner, long stroll with Spirit, darkness had already appeared, the cold made it’s way in, a little bit of writing and reading and on for the next day, a sunny and colorful one hoping, inside and out.
In my effort to stay on the road I now have a T Shirt and Merchandise store. I think you will like it.
It is called “SpiritedOasis”.
Photos and Digital downloads are on “Smugmug”.
The recipes are on the “One-Pan Recipe” section. They free downloads, contributions are gladly accepted.
We both appreciate your support and hoping we are giving something back.
Be well… Always.
Ara and Spirit