22″ x 24″
Whenever I drive from Miami to New Mexico I count the dead armadillos along the way. One time, seven. Another, eighteen. I’ve never seen an armadillo alive and sporting armor, so I was relieved to see this golden one snuggled up against a man in Natchez, Mississippi, which is not on my normal cross-country route but now holds a definite appeal. Plus, what a great word: Natchez. The man has his arm around the armadillo and reclines in the middle of Main Street in a proprietary way, a protective way, as if he knows armadillos are rarely alive after they’ve tried to cross a street somewhere. Or a super highway. I can’t imagine what it must be like to touch an armadillo’s back, which, they say, is leathery and rough with plates and grooves across it, preventing it from rolling up in a ball when threatened, as some might have heard. In fact, I can’t believe that The North American Nine-banded Armadillo tends to jump straight in the air when surprised, and consequently often collides with the undercarriage or fenders of passing vehicles. Crap. I’m glad this gold one has a friend. Plus, there’s a big eye looking down on Natchez now. That should definitely help.
–Maureen Seaton, June 15, 2011, Chimayó, NM (for Noah)
You can't tell but the armadillo is made in gold colored pencil, it's kind of awkward, maybe I'll pull out the gold leaf, I keep threatening to do that. The scene is Main Street in Natchez. Not sure what the golden armadillo is, I don't think of it as a symbol, but as an actual armadillo just made of gold.