Foot-hills — Summary

The New Mexico foothills, in Alice Corbin Henderson’s description, are not passive scenery. They are spotted like lizards, alive with a quiet, slinking motion that only a careful observer might notice. The hills “sinuously glide and dissemble” – they seem to shift and hide their true shape, almost playfully deceiving the eye. Then Henderson offers a surprising, childlike solution: if you take a forked stick, you may catch one and hold it. This isn’t about capturing a wild animal, but about finding a way to grasp the elusive beauty of the land. The mood is whimsical and intimate, as if the speaker is letting you in on a local secret. There’s a tenderness here, a sense that the landscape is something you can know closely, like a cherished creature in your hand. In just a few words, the poem makes the hills feel as near and magical as a lizard sunning on a rock.