Last January we spent two nights in a ghost town. Deep in West Texas, on the edge of the Chihuahuan Desert, stand the crumbling remains of Terlingua. It was once a prosperous mining town, booming between the late 1890s and 1930s; drying up as quickly as the mercury veins that birthed it. The sun sparkled in the dry desert air as we removed our unnecessary jackets. I watched from above, drinking a Topo Chico, as my husband and kids clambered... Read more