THE FENCE THAT WASN'T.

Hot and quiet with a gentle tail wind pushes us along the back roads between Tucumcari and Cuervo, NM.  Antelope and cattle slip between the rickety fence barbed wire and roam the roads as freely as the fields. By the looks of the dry brittle-grass, the blacktop offered as much nutrition as the brown fields. A local farmer grimaces and says, “Ain’t had a lick a rain in months.

The remains of a million year old mountain now almost as flat as the surrounding landscape.

One Cottonwood tree the whole day gives up its spring buds as breakfast for this bird. Canyon Sparrow? Thrush?

Thistles sway and seem equally stout as the feeble fences.