Dry land crossings: three old bridges of New Mexico
In 2006 I lost a job I’d held onto for nine years, without very much liking it for the middle, let’s say, six, and actually more or less hating it for the last several. When I was laid off it came as such a relief that I immediately called my wife to tell her the “good news.”
Before the other shoe had a chance to drop — you know, that size 12 clodhopper that that comes with the extended lack of a paycheck — I took off for a New Mexico road trip, with no particular destination in mind other than a preference for the southern half of the state. I needed some good old fashioned desert solitude to clear my head.
In the course of circling around the backroads and byways, I came across these three old bridges. And of course I had to photograph them, because that’s what I do.