The sun can be harsh and hot, the rain sparse, the winter nights fierce cold. But within the rocks are natural resources undreamed of by the early Indians, almost untouched by the Spanish, and with potential beyond vision for the future. Water, being scarce, is one of the more important resources. With an average yearly precipitation of only fifteen inches, and more than half of the state receiving less than that average, water is a problem! Farming must depend upon irrigation, the water being drawn from streams or “mined” from underground “pools” where it had been accumulating for centuries.
Forests, game, and fish are lucrative resources somewhat unexpected in a semiarid state; sheep and cattle—in this the stronghold of the cowboy, famous in gunfighter lore—each total more than a million. New Mexico’s 1965 mineral production, valued at $781.9 million, ranked seventh among the states. Principal commodities won from the rocks, in order of value, were oil, potash, natural gas, uranium, copper, sand and gravel, zinc, coal, crushed stone, and perlite. Sizeable quantities of barite, beryl, carbon dioxide, cement, clays, gem stones, gold, gypsum, helium, iron ore, lead, limestone, magnesium compounds, manganese, mica, molybdenum, pumice, salt, silver, sulfur, and vanadium were also mined. The huge open-pit copper mine at Santa Rita, the many uranium mines near Grants, the underground potash mines near Carlsbad, and the thousands of oil and gas wells in the northwestern and southeastern parts of the state are typical of man-made landscape features attributable to mineral exploitation in New Mexico. Numerous old mine dumps, rotting mine shafts, and spooky ghost towns are reminders of past fortunes won and lost.
The rocks, the work of water, wind, and sun, and the not insignificant upheavals by man have shaped New Mexico’s landscapes. Blended with its blue skies, warm sun, and the products of three cultures—Indian, Spanish, and American—the rocks and their movements have made the landscapes a land of enchantment.
Earth wears a mantle rich with lore,
of storied fabric finely spun,
That tells of kingdoms come and gone,
of legions lost and battles won.
No seer no monarch can divine,
the cryptic writings; he alone,
Who humbly speaks the tongue of earth,