Santa Fe delights on so many levels

Michael Mudd |

6/29/2008 - 6/29/08

I guess you'd have to it call ironic. Here I was, sitting with the doors wide open to another perfect morning, reading the Sunday paper in the afterglow of a delightful dinner party the night before. Then, in one of those odd quirks of timing the universe likes to serve up, I came upon a my view, "Santa Fe disappoints on so many levels" (June 22) by Valerie Dryka expressing exactly the opposite thought I had just shared with my wife not a moment before.

"I have never been happier," I told her. In fact, this last year since we moved to Santa Fe has been the happiest of my life — even more so, I have to say, than that magical year I spent in Italy as a student so long ago.

Ms. Dryka's year had been anything but. Bristling with frustration, anger and contempt toward the way of life she had found in Santa Fe, she seemed ready to call back the movers who had unpacked her only 11 months before.

This "Is the glass half empty or half full?" moment made me think. Why am I so happy? What is it about this place that so lifts my spirits and renews in me a joy of living I have not felt since my youth?

For sure, much of what the writer had railed against I have experienced myself. Mistaken invoices, unreturned phone calls, tardy tradesmen. So why hasn't it affected me the way it has her?

I didn't have to dig very deep before I found the answer. These annoyances, real and frequent though they may be, are trivial compared with the warmth, wisdom and beauty of everyday life here. Yes, it's something about the light, the landscape, the smell of burning piñon, the food, the weather, the richness of creative expression. But it's so much more than that.

For me, it's the wave from another driver as you pass on a rural road. The clerk at the Motor Vehicle Division — the Motor Vehicle Division! — who takes a few moments to ask how you like it here. The genuine welcome to newcomers from neighbors and people you meet in the park. And how marvelously interesting these people are — Van Morrison's manager; an 82-year-old former POW from World War II who has lived happily ever after with his charming partner for the past 32 years; an exceptional woman who was once a fashion model, then earned a Harvard magna cum laude in anthropology and is now a gifted painter.

I also like that eccentricity is not just accepted, it's almost the norm. That the circle of angels I volunteer with at The Food Depot has been coming to help the hungry every Wednesday for five, six, some of them for eight years. I am absolutely thrilled that at virtually every lecture or seminar I attend, half the audience is over 70, and they're the first to raise their hands with an incisive question.

I am thoroughly stimulated by the vibrancy of political discourse, be it local, state, or national. Hardly a day goes by when I'm not provoked or amused by the torrent of bumper sticker wit. I admire the depth of environmental concern. Even all the political correctness, as excessive as it can sometimes be, feels, well, correct.

I guess what it is, is this place is alive, it's humane and caring, there is such a strong sense of community and such a rich intellectual life. No doubt Ms. Dryka was right — Santa Fe isn't likely to make the top 10 of most efficient cities any time soon. That's OK with me. All I know is, I'm even less likely to call in the movers any time soon. I'm already home.

Michael Mudd is a photographer who moved to Santa Fe from Chicago last summer.