Seize the Day

Seize the Day

New Mexicans joke that this state is the land of “mañana,” and before I leave I am going to purchase my favorite T-shirt which has the slogan: “Carpe mañana.” However, now that my sojourn here is winding down to its last thirty days, I'm thinking more along the lines of the original Latin - “Carpe diem” and trying to take advantage of all the unique experiences Albuquerque has to offer.

First and foremost that means early morning bike rides along the “bosque,” the forested area of cottonwoods and native trees that runs along the Rio Grande about a quarter mile from my house. In this area of New Mexico the Rio Grande is not very impressive - “el rio no muy grande” (the river that is not very “grande”) is a family joke, but the ribbon of green that borders the river on either side is very impressive, a striking vision of green in a landscape that otherwise paints itself in muted tones of browns, yellows, and the darker blues and greys of the mountains.

At 7:00 a.m. with a cool breeze blowing across my face, it's just about the most wonderful thing I can imagine to bike along side the river and have the city disappear from view as the green space on either side and the gentle slope of the hills create the illusion that there are no housing developments over the horizon. A gentle curve brings me face to face with the Sandia Mountains, bathed in the soft light of the morning sunrise or cloud-covered as they are so often now in monsoon season.

A family of geese will waddle across the bike path; a rabbit will dart in front of me; or a road-runner disappear into the brush with a lizard in its mouth. Only once or twice have I seen a coyote, but I know they are there as well, waiting in the shadows.

For a brief hour I can imagine there really still is a “wilderness” in this metropolis of 600,000, and even when another biker or walker or roller-blader crosses my path, there is the pleasant exchange of “Good morning” or “Passing on your left,” followed by “Thanks” and a wave.

I kick myself for not having discovered this pleasure when I first arrive, for letting the goat thorns that deflated my tires, or the homesickness that made any sight of the desert unwelcome, keep me from the pleasures of speeding or strolling along a path that brings me in view of all the beauties Albuquerque has to offer while conveniently obscuring its urban sprawl.