Lincoln’s Doors


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I ran across this set of doors in Lincoln, New Mexico. They, for me, raised a lot of questions in my mind. Where do they lead? Why are they closed? Are they keeping me out, or someone else on the other side out? And why, for that matter, even have doors here, seemingly separating the outside from the outside?

Still, despite, or perhaps because of, the questions, I was deeply intrigued by them. I adore the weather-beaten look that can only be achieved by being out the weather forever. The faded blue paint resonated perfectly against the vibrant blue skies above it. The brown of the fence echoed the brown of the hills beyond. And that green, budding tree just makes me want to throw open the doors and see what else lies behind them. Try as I might, and I did try, I just couldn’t see through any cracks or gaps in the fence to slake my curiosity.

That’s OK, though. A good mystery is just that: good. The question of the doors remains with me, and I think it is truly a case that I am better off not knowing. It is probably a mundane answer, anyway, and our imagination is capable of making up so many stories when we just don’t know.

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