Writing in the Ortiz Mountains Educational Preserve

The only sounds are the wind whooshing in the rugged pinon pines, occasionally broken by the buzz of a Broad-winged Hummingbird, the squawk of a Scrub Jay or the call of a kingbird or Plumbeous Vireo. As the sun warms the ground, the aroma of warm pine needles begins to permeate the air. All of my senses are piqued, allowing the sounds of nature to ooze through my pores.

I am attending a nature writing workshop at the Ortiz Mountains Educational Preserve (OMEP) south of Santa Fe. The preserve can only be reached by deliberate persistence – on a steep, rutted road. Two of the docents ferried us the 2 ½ miles up into the preserve in their four-wheel-drive vehicles. Part way up, we stopped to look out over the Galisteo Basin, the remains and reclamation of a former gold mining operation, and the now defunct village of Delores – once the largest town in New Mexico.

As we sat under a kiosk near the entrance to the preserve, Pamela Christie, workshop leader and historical novelist, set the stage by reading a paragraph from local historian Bill Baxter’s Gold of the Ortiz Mountains about Dona Tules, a young woman who accompanied her husband to a mining camp near Santa Fe around 1823. She then read a passage from Wind Leaves No Shadows, a historical novel about Dona Tules and from her own mystery novel, The King’s Lizard, that both took their inspiration from the historical account.

As I begin to absorb my surroundings, it is clear this was not always a place of solitude. A dilapidated three-hole out house gives testament to the lives of women and children who camped out in the Ortiz Mountains in the winter while their husbands pursued their dream of finding gold.

Mining could only take place during winter when snow could be melted for panning. Life must have been tough, especially for women. A short distance a way is a collapsed mine addit, or opening. Remnants of the early camps had been placed in a pile – fragments of colored glass, a section of an old wooden wheel, pieces of metal – each one with a story to tell, perhaps the basis for a future story written by one of the workshop participants.

While mining along the Turquoise Trail petered out by the late 1800’s, the operation at Delores continued well into the 1900’s, until it also became inactive. When the mine was purchased by a minerals conglomerate, local citizens banded together to prevent the mine from re-opening. The court settlement resulted in 1,300 acres being set aside as an educational preserve, and the Santa Fe Botanical Gardens was chosen to be its steward. In addition, the mining company was required to take steps to correct and prevent further environmental pollution.

Bonnie, one of the docents, pointed out one of the reclamation projects – a cupola built over a mine shaft to allow bats the freedom of flight, while preventing people from entering. Bats have claimed abandoned mines as permanent homes or stopovers during migration, since their microclimate resembles that of caves. One of OMEP’s educational activities is a ‘bat watch’ during a full moon.

Trees were planted and netting was stretched across the polluted standing water to prevent birds from stopping in for a drink.

In the early afternoon, we wound our way down the mountain to the parking area. As I was driving away, I noticed a Red-tailed Hawk perched on the top of a power pole. I could see its yellow eye constantly scanning the terrain, and then it raised its wings and slowly glided out over the desert. I am grateful for vigilance of the individuals and organizations that have worked to restore this striking habitat.

Eco Resolutions – Not Eco-Anxiety

The headline on the front page of the Albuquerque Journal screamed, “Eco-Anxiety May Be Getting You Down.” The article went on to describe the symptoms of anxiety experienced by many people as they contemplate the fate of the environment and the resulting specialty of a Santa Fe therapist who is specializing in eco-therapy.

If I think about the political will to make significant policy changes to protect the planet, I feel hopeless and can become depressed. However, if I focus on what I can do, I become energized.

It seemed a good time to take stock of my ‘resolutions to save the earth.’ As the year rolled into 2007, I pledged to take two steps to do my part to combat greenhouse emissions: 1) Reduce my use of plastic bags and 2) Use less gasoline and natural gas.

While I have been religious about combining errands to limit my driving, I have been less successful with walking. I have walked the three blocks to Staples when I needed a new printer cartridge rather than waiting for my next trip out; however, it has been easier to just postpone most trips until another day.

I got through the winter with my daytime thermostat set at 65 degrees, and have replaced my dishwasher and refrigerator with energy efficient models. In addition, prompted by one of my readers, I have replaced incandescent bulbs with low-energy fluorescents ones.

My attack on plastic bags has been rather successful. I have been using my cloth bags more consistently. When purchasing items that I can easily carry out without a bag, I am quick to educate the shocked clerk when I request no bag. When I pick up my Los Poblanos produce, I can put most items in my cloth bag just they way they are. However, when I shop for produce at a grocery store, there doesn’t seem to be a way to purchase 2 lemons or 6 apples without using a plastic bag. When I scoop my bulk rice, nuts and granola into recyclable plastic bags, I reason that it is using fewer resources than purchasing them in a package.

What frosts me is that I must take the bags to Wal-Mart to be recycled. If I shopped at Wal-Mart, it wouldn’t be so bad; however, shopping at most big box stores goes against my eco-grain. In California, legislation went into effect July 1 that requires all grocery stores to accept and recycle plastic bags and encourage the use of reusable bags. While most cities do not accept plastic bags in their curbside recycling, there are a handful of communities, including Seattle, WA that have added this item to their list of recyclables.

In a recent article, “Paper, Plastic or Prada?,” Time Magazine reported on a recent trend in designer shopping totes, including a $15 one by Anya Hindmarch that announces, “I’m NOT a Plastic Bag.” The article goes on to state that when they were released worldwide, they were so popular that shoppers in Hong Kong created a near-riot in their attempt to purchase the limited edition tote – ironically causing the store to “triple-wrap them in plastic bags in an effort to keep their new owners from being mugged on their way home.” Shoppers in Ireland, which instituted a 20 cent a bag “plastax,” camped out to get a Hindmarch bag.

In a side bar, Time provided plastic bag statistics. The average family of four in the United States uses approximately 1,460 bags in a year. It takes 12 million barrels of oil to produce the 88.5 billion plastic bags consumed in the U.S. each year. Less than 1% of these bags are recycled.

Santa Fe therapist, Melissa Pickett recommends dealing with eco-anxiety through meditation “or carrying a rock in your pocket – to remind you of a connection with nature…”

I prefer the view of Mardy Murie, the ‘mother’ of the environmental movement, as reported by Terry Tempest Williams in her book The Open Space of Democracy. “Give yourself the adventure of doing what you can do, with what you have, even if you have nothing but the adventure of trying. How much better than standing in a corner with your back to the wall.”