Flowing From Our Wildest Imaginations
BY WILLY CARLETON · PHOTOGRAPHS BY SHERMAN HOGUE/BLMNM My legs dangle over the small bridge as I watch the Rio Chama rushing below, rippling over stones. Over the constant din of the moving water, the leaves of scattered cottonwoods at the river’s edge clap softly with brief bursts of wind. Beyond the banks, a sloping plain rises toward towering cliffs and rock amphitheaters stratified with the reds, yellows, and browns of long-gone geological epochs.