Adventure: The Hunt

Sandia Crest.

10,542 elevation.

Goal: The Rosy-Finch (Black, Gray-crowned, Brown-capped)

Two twenty-something boys in a red, late 1990s Camry, emerge from their car, eating Cheetos, then proceed to throw all their trash on the ground. Four teen girls attempt to navigate the icy steps of the nearby lodge. “Now that you have been here,” one girl says to another, “Do you even want to go to Yosemite?” “No,” the other girl responds, “I don’t want to go, but I need a photo of me in front of Yosemite for Instagram.” The temperature is twenty-five degrees above normal, and there is barely any snow. The finches arrive in a swirling whirl, progressively diminishing in number as the day unfolds. I meet Gabi, an elderly German woman with a spark in her eye. She’s here for the finches, too. She’s alive, interested, curious, and conversant. We press our phones together, and just like that, we are connected. I move into position to photograph the birds backlit as they descend on the trees. Looking to the horizon, I’m able to see peaks over one hundred miles away. Below lies the desert brown expanse of Albuquerque.