There are few words more evocative when paired than “Ghost Town”. The name evokes the shadowy remains of old houses, objects left where they were last used, and a haunting atmosphere of memory and demise. And then there is Terlingua Ghost Town, dusty and bright. There are no shadows in its crumbling houses, the remnants of an old mining community, nor are there creaking floorboards or abandoned objects. There is wind, which sweeps dirt and sand across the arid plane, and a silence that may be peaceful or troubling, depending on your mood as you walk over the pale plateau.