Day 3 – The Echo Chamber Crossed into the Land of Enchantment today (a.k.a. New Mexico). Part of the enchantment is its geographic diversity – white-sand deserts, vaulting mountains, solitary mesas, expansive high plains. But just when I thought I’ve seen it all, the Mrs. and I tripped on yet another enchanting element.
Actually, it wasn’t so much of a trip as it was an alternate route to our final destination. We learned of the Ghost Ranch area of northern New Mexico’s Rio Chama country from the film Cowboys and Aliens.
The state has become a popular film location, so we frequently find ourselves as the only people left in the theatre while we wait for the location credits to come up at the end. Our hunch was right again on this movie.
The area’s a bit like a pre-historic time capsule. You drive through canyons of sheer rock walls striped in ochre, faun and brick red. It was likely the bottom of a large sea back in the day (the way back day) as evidenced by the sedimentary rock formations.
My freshman geography instructor would proud to know I did retain something from his Monday – Friday 4:30 class, which consisted of carousel tray after carousel tray of slides depicting rock formations from his summer vacation, all shown in the comfort of a warm, pitch-black classroom. There must be something to that sleep learning theory after all.
But the headliner of the day was the Echo Amphitheatre. When I saw it listed on the map, I considered whether it might be a good place to try out my new Vegas act. It’s so much easier to connect with an audience in a smaller, more intimate setting. The key would be whether the lights could capture all the sequins in the finale.
After zooming by the sign placed less than 100 feet before the turnoff, we turned around and came back. I quickly determined that I might be able to resolve the lighting issue but the Bengal tigers would never work in this small space. So I ruled it out as a performance location.
My disappointment not withstanding, it’s still an amazing site. The Echo Amphitheatre is literally a band-shell structure naturally smoothed out from a vertical rock wall. The inside surface looks like it’s been worn smooth from wind and rain (or some such geological event).
But the most amazing part was that it formed a perfect echo chamber. After risking certain death from what I’m sure was a snake-infested path leading up to the site, the visitor is treated to a quiet almost celestial sound experience, like the echo of Gregorian chants in a cathedral.
I chose to test out this naturally occurring special effect with a jazz rendition of “Row, row, row your boat” in round. The Mrs. on the other hand chose to use a naturally occurring gastrointestinal noise. Actually, both were equally impressive in this echo chamber.
Later in the day, I was thinking about the reverberating sounds and it occurred to me it’s a little like the messages we hear within our personal echo chamber—the one on top of our shoulders.
The older I get, the more I’ve come to realize the importance of listening to the voices that echo in our heads (and in the heads of the people we love). These inner voices are what eventually lead us to our truth.
They tell us what we need to feel better. They help us make better choices. They reaffirm what we’ve likely known all along.
I wish I’d learned that earlier. But perhaps that’s the wisdom that comes with age. Or the age that comes with wisdom, with wisdom, with wisdom.
