Penitentiary squash courts lurk along the road to the pool, made of cement and guarded by wire.
Behind the fence you can see something beautiful, but you're pretty sure it's out of reach and not your world and made for someone else, but something pulls you anyway and then you find an opening.
I'm beginning to understand the strange bleakness of New Mexico, whose role is to guard the secret wonder with derelict walls and terrible roads, until you're pretty sure it isn't there at all, and then you lose hope and go back to a place where the fences are polished and the people fit into boxes.
But the secret wonder is here, you just have to take time, go closer, and feel your way through the fence.
Then you can find a guide who can show you the Land of Enchantment, USA, which has some kind of slow voodoo power — slow and strong and old and weird and deep.
