Even after spending most of my life in the southwest, I still love it. The mountains and the horizon-to-horizon blue sky year ‘round never fail to thrill me. Four years of college in New Jersey where I earned my degree in English, exposed me to the concept of gray and faded shadows. Even the brightest New Jersey sun failed to cast the crisp distinct shadows that the New Mexico sun can create on a cloudy day. I clearly remember my first day in the Princeton, NJ area. A small sign saying "Princeton" pointed off to the left at an intersection and headed down a claustrophobic corridor through trees which held their branches over the winding road. Hardly a shaft of sunlight found a path through the heavy overhanging green canopy to the gray road beneath. I followed the shaded road vainly looking for a glimpse of anything that would give me an orientation of north.
In the “Land of Enchantment,” you can always see the mountains. You always know from which direction the sun will come spilling over the edge of the world and which way it will disappear in a kaleidoscope of colors at night. As a native New Mexican, this underlying sense of east and west and north and south guides all your movements. Unconsciously you orient yourself by these guidelines, and go about your daily life with this innate sense of which way is “up.” I was never more lost than those first few days in NJ. I couldn’t see where the towns started or left off-- their boundaries were obscured by the trees and thick underbrush, and worst of all, I had no idea which way was north!
After only a few days of feeling completely disoriented, I happened upon a brilliant idea which would solve all my directional problems for the duration of my educational stay. I bought a nice compass. Before this phase of my life came to a close, I had accumulated over ten compasses. I kept one in my car, another in my handbag and several I had bought, mislaid and had not found until packing to go back out west with my new husband.
Now, many years later, most of the compasses, in spite of their quality are glorified toys for my three children. I could keep them neatly tucked away in a shoebox in the back of my closet for safe keeping, but I don’t anticipate ever needing them again. Again, Ialways know which way the sun rises and sets and therefore I know that all is right with the world.