I hitchhiked to Santa Fe once and spent the day wandering around the art galleries and adobe huts.  The pueblos felt simultaneously modern and primitive - like space ships built a thousand years ago - and I lost track of time.  I started making my way back - 30 miles in one car, 10 miles in another.   The afternoon turned into a brilliant sunset that radiated an azalea green from behind the hills. My final ride had on Automatic for the People, and the song New Orleans Instrumental #1 played as the sky turned from green to red, red to purple, purple to blue, and blue to black. It smelled like ozone and old leather.