Ten Thousand Waves is in part so wonderful because it's both completely non-south-western, and quintissentially Santa Fe - meditative - that is, meditation-inspiring - and alternative/wacky (in the sense of finding a Japanese spa in the middle of the high desert, complete with hot stone massages, salt wraps, and yes, I did once have a nightingale-droppings facial ...) and yet surrounded with pine trees and aspens and humming birds. I wish I'd taken a tripod up with me - I'm sure its three-pointedness could have been made to serve some meditational or sacred function - because the Japanese lights and banners and silhouetted plants merited it. As it is, this just gives a sense of the path down through the pines to the carpark - Alice standing somewhere in the gloom - with the steps, if not the lights, looking as though they've escaped from a Greek island.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Ending our summers in Santa Fe with a trip to 10,000 Waves is something of a ritual. It says something about the onrushing semester - the mound of chair-related administration, the fact that it's mid-August and our courses haven't exactly been is a state of refined readiness for weeks, etc - that we have already vowed that next summer, we are going to book up well, well in advance for a day of private hot tub, massages, wraps, you name it ... the day after we roll into town. This evening we contented ourselves with soaking in the Waterfall Tub.