After Ryan and Emilia picked me up at the Albuquerque Airport from my early morning flight, we headed north to Santa Fe via the
Turquoise Trail on the eastern side of the Sandia Mountains. We arrived in Santa Fe in time for a breakfast of blue corn pancakes, hot chocolate, and snow flurries. It had been years since I had been to Santa Fe and it was as charming as I remembered it.
I was excited to see the Cathedral Basilica of Saint Francis of Assisi, commonly known as Saint Francis Cathedral. It was built during the time of
Bishop Lamy.
He was sent to Santa Fe after my ancestors, as members of the
Mormon Battalion, marched through Santa Fe during the Mexican American War in 1846. Bishop
Lamy was assigned by Rome in 1851 to head the new Diocese of Santa Fe as bishop as the current Southwest of the United States broke ties with Mexico. He was later made archbishop. This bronze of him stands outside his church.
The stone for the church was quarried from rock near what is now the town of
Lamy, New Mexico.
In commemoration of the restoration of the church, these bronze doors were created with panel depictions of the history of Bishop
Lamy and Santa Fe. It reminded me of the
bronze Baptistery doors of Florence, Italy.
You are only allowed to photograph the interior without flash. It was beautiful.
The original stained glass windows had been sent back to Europe for cleaning and restoration recently.
They were stunning.
They depicted the apostles.
Ryan and Emelia study these beautiful works.
The morning sun flowed through bleeding colored light.
It was warm and lovely.
The rosette window and organ pipes on the west end.
Looking toward the transept on the south side.
On the north side is the original adobe chapel (not the first as it was destroyed during a Native American uprising in the 1600's.) Notice the hand-
hewn wooden beams.
This space holds the statue of Our Lady of Peace.
As you can see, the statue has led a storied existence.
I enjoyed all the special details and hand done touches.
The towers were meant to have steeples but they were never completed.
One tower is one brick layer higher than the other.
When Borders held its closeout sale, I purchased paperbacks of these two books. I had read both many years earlier and decided to read them again. I was curious to see if I would like them as much as I once had.
I first remember "
Rebecca" by Daphne
du Maurier from my childhood. Mrs. Shoemaker of radio fame in
Rexburg, Idaho in the 1950's would read aloud from a novel every week day. My mother would sit at her sewing machine and listen to her read. (Perhaps its genetic that I listen to NPR while at my sewing machine.) I would lay on my mother's bed and listen as well. I remember my mother especially enjoying "
Rebecca" so I checked it out of the library and read it as a young adult. I was less enhanced in my current reading. I decided that there was not even one character which I really cared about.
"Death Comes for the Archbishop" by Willa Cather, however, was an even bigger treat as a reread. Perhaps is was my familiarity with the Southwest as I have traveled it and studied its history over the years that made the rereading so enjoyable. Most probably it was Willa Cather's skill as a writer and her beautiful prose which brought the landscapes and characters to life.
I was so happy that I had read this book again before planning my trip to New Mexico. I slipped it into my suitcase and left it for Ryan and Emilia, my new New Mexicans.
Ryan and Emilia had spent a day in Santa Fe in honor of their anniversary in July. They had taken the bus tour that day and so retraced their route for me by car. Ryan even stopped a time or two for photo ops. Enjoy!
