We do Santa Fe . . . kinda

Who doesn't love a "most", "longest", "smallest"; people and places vie for designations that make them stand out from the crowd.  In the case of Santa Fe, New Mexico, it's no contest: the oldest state capitol in these United States, and also the highest in elevation.  Founded astoundingly in 1610, it is perched at 7,199 feet elevation.  In addition, it is surely one of the most artsy cities around.

I challenge a parking meter . . .

After the señor & I completed what we could of cleaning out rodent infestations (the pack rat damage is a whole different - and pricey - ballgame which will be dealt with at home.), we ventured into Santa Fe's historic district.  Good luck finding a place to park!  Wandering up, down and all around on those tiny narrow streets, we finally spied someone preparing to pull out of one of those treasured spots.  We zipped right in behind her, and then began the fun with the parking meter.

Hmmm, we were not prepared with coins, so we attempted to use a credit card (this country girl had no idea parking meters accepted plastic!) to no avail.  It didn't like the first one - we could tell because nothing on its countenance lit up - so we offered it an alternative.  No dice there either.

We certainly weren't giving up on that hard-won parking place; I can play with the big dogs, so I pulled out my smart phone to utilize a parking app (there's an app for everything, you know) and commenced to punching in names, numbers, places - everything that app requested, I supplied.  Eventually, it managed to extract $4.30 from my account.  Success! or so I crowed, right up until my wet blanket pard informed me that the meter had not changed its mode from red to green.  Argh!  It won: it took my dough and left me in danger of being ticketed or towed if I dared walk away.

Numerous tries to retrieve something from that blasted app yielded nothing, but then I saw a meter maid of sorts trawling for violators, and encouraged Chris to beg their assistance.  In the end, it turns out the meter was busted and it was all for naught, but some app somewhere is $4.30 richer.  Great work if you can get it.

Between the rodents and the parking meter, we had only a half day to peruse the Santa Fe plaza, and we did a lot of perusing in that time.

The Plaza . . .

Designated as a National Historic Landmark, Santa Fe's Plaza was the terminus of the Camino Real, the road from Mexico City, and the 1821 western end of the Santa Fe Trail from Missouri.  Originally a military presidio, the need for defensive walls gave way to development in the city center - residences and commercial enterprises took their place.  The Plaza now is shaded by tall trees (sound familiar, Prescottonians?), a lovely promenade before and after wandering through the myriad shops, galleries and restaurants that are arrayed out in every direction from the heart of the city.

 

Adobe buildings are the name of the game here: they are impressive multi-story and squatty long low structures.  Many invite the visitor into interior mall-like atmospheres, and some like The Shed (where we had a super lunch) offer dining in dim interiors or in shaded courtyards. . .

 

 

 . . . and where the 100-year-old trumpet vines are gargantuan.

 It's a marvelous colorful maze with many Native American sellers displaying their wares on the sidewalks along the Palace of the Governors, Mexican arts & crafts being offered from serape-draped stalls, trinkets and curios for sale alongside valuable jewelry and artwork.

 

One store, while having nothing whatsoever to do with southwestern anything, was stunning and irresistible with its polychromatic display of lighting fixtures.

Every step around the downtown revealed additional serenes of beauty, intriguing passageways, unique architecture, and art of every ilk.

These columns were painted by acclaimed artist Yatika Starr Fields.

A college mate . . .

The funniest thing that happened to us was when we were inquiring about a set of vintage Indian jewelry.  We talked to a helpful young woman who could not answer our questions; however, she referred us to someone she was certain would be knowledgeable in the field.  Two doors down, she said, "there is an old man with white hair", and he knows everything about it.  Down we went, right into the shop of Mark Bahti, with whom Chris attended Prescott College!  Guess we're getting to that age . . .

A musician and his dog . . .

Street music is common on The Plaza, and some of it quite good.

For us, the history of the place permeates everything, although nowadays, Santa Fe is renowned for its art scene.  I couldn't even think about entering a gallery; they are so numerous as to be overwhelming.  And our short wander after being defeated by a parking meter did not allow time to visit museums nor for any of the historic churches.  Unlike normal folks, our original intent had been to explore the countryside of the region, with Santa Fe as an aside.  The time between jobs and gigs is insufficient for either, so a return is high on my priorities.

Because of the great antiquity hereabouts, most original structures have given way to the weight of time or the changing whims of the populace.  One plaque conveys that well; it tells us that we are on the site of Santa Fe's first chapel.  It was so ancient that by 1714, it already been demolished, after having also been utilized as a defensive tower during the 1600s.

 

A river walk . . .

The Santa Fe River appropriately flows through the city, more of a stream than its name implies.  I wanted to walk along its course; however, there were sections that did not feel particularly safe to me.  I am surprised and appalled at the huge amount of gang tagging I see throughout the town, and there were groups of folks along the river who sent my alarm bells to jangling.

Not to be deterred, though, we found other sections that were lovely, and enjoyed an interesting and delightful walk - surprisingly birdless.  There were a number of seemingly homeless folks along the way, most of whom I greeted and exchanged "g'days".  I heard one laughing after we passed as he said something about someone who actually talks to me.  Not his usual experience, evidently.

We picked up tidbits of history from signage as we went.  One, pictured below, especially caught my attention.  It tells about four women of the religious group, Sisters of Loretto, arriving in this area after traveling from Kentucky in 1852, a time that would have presented incredible difficulties and dangers for them.  They established the first school for young women in New Mexico Territory - brave women!

On its way to empty into the Rio Grande, the Santa Fe's flow is being used in innovative ways through the city, as with the Alameda stormwater rain garden that we read about.

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Prior to 1813, there were only two bridges over the river; all other crossings were fords.  One of the early bridges was Brother's Lane.  It and the Defouri Bridge were constructed specifically for the passage of religious processions.  I intend to return to follow the path in the photo below.

 

The riverwalk park is no exception to Santa Fe's love of art: many sculptures adorn its banks.

When I saw this stunningly-hued plant, I had to help myself to a start.  Hope it's not invasive.

Birds . . .

Not to be forgotten are the numerous birds in our woodsy home away from home.  We have hung up a seed feeder and a nectar feeder.  At them and in the surrounding brush, we've identified juniper titmouse, canyon towhee, green-tailed towhee, American robin, chipping sparrow, American crow, raven, broad-tailed hummingbird, house sparrow, and I'm pretty sure I saw a mountain chickadee.