Our Central Park

We have a public space in the old part of Albuquerque that is a pretty well kept secret. I can reach it with a twenty minute walk through the neighborhood from my front door, or a five minute drive in my car.

The Open Space is 80 acres of farm land acquired by the city for public use. But it's all within the city limits.

The ditches are hundreds of years old. They are the original irrigation system designed for conveying water from the Rio Grande river which is no longer grand. We call them acequias (ah-say-kee-ahs).

The open space is a pretty humble and unassuming place, but it is a delightful respite at the beginning or the end of day. And for the folks who frequent it, a daily blessing. I always think I'm going to bring a picnic here, but never do.

There is a small flower garden with a single olive tree with a bench beneath it that my grandchildren and I have rather unimaginatively called our secret garden. No one can see you sitting on the bench, and you are enclosed enough to imagine Mr. McGregors Garden, or that you are somewhere in Brambly Hedge.

I noticed this morning that someone has built a new bench/table for the space. Like us, so many people think of this place as their own. 

It's a wonderful place to see birds and wildlife. This morning a resident roadrunner is meandering the garden with us.

You can also rent garden space for a very reasonable price. Young, beautiful, and sophisticated people with expensive cars cultivate here along side old timers with jalopies. Everyone is on the honor system. I don't garden here, but the space still feeds me.

I had to show you these incredible beans. They are a wonderful opportunity for a beanstalk fairytale.

You can get a sense of the intense sunlight by eight o'clock in the morning!

The zinnias are two feet high against this towering spiking plant. 

The secret garden olive tree.

There are miles of roads and paths to walk along the fields.

These fluffly looking plants are russian thistle, otherwise known as tumble weeds. If they are not cut down, they will eventually dry up, detatch from the ground, and tumble the open space with the wind.

They are very prickly!

This is not a watermelon, but a volunteer gourd plant.

This is the bridge I cross on my morning commute.

Our famous Sandia Mountains.

Full circle! Nice to have you along with me. I hope the rest of your weekend is lovely!

Ciao! for now!

Jacqueline

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