Our New Mexico parish

A few miles from Capulin Volcano in northeastern New Mexico sits a small stone church at a lonely crossroads. Although out in the middle of nowhere, the church, St. John’s, built in 1903, is well-kept. On a recent visit, my wife and I, the only creatures in sight, stepped inside and found cherrywood pews, a simple lectern, a plain wooden crucifix and a solitary swallow fluttering about trying to escape. After a few tries, we caught the bird and set it free.

Lingering inside, I walked to the lectern at the front of the church. The Bible was open to Psalms, and the opening of Psalm 11 caught my eye. “In the Lord I put my trust: how say ye to my soul, Flee as a bird to your mountain?” Amen.

We walked outside. Amazingly, a hundred or more swallows wildly circled the church. Just a few minutes before, we believed ourselves to be the only creatures around. Upon reflection, it seemed sky, man, scripture and a flock of swallows together reaffirmed New Mexico’s official motto: Land of Enchantment.
Joseph Falco

---

We were escorted to this paradise by holy brethren on the condition that we’d never reveal its location, but we managed to sneak in a camera and take this picture.

This is one of the few places left in the West that’s been virtually untouched. The lake nearby is full of native trout, campsites are empty and the hiking trails lead to spectacular, otherworldly places.