Sunday, June 6, 2010
It has been incredibly hot here this week. The roses are turning into dried, perfectly preserved blooms right on the bush. I can barely keep up with the deadheading. The garlic and shallots are going limp, the chard threatening to bolt. It's been the kind of heat where you don't want to go out after 8 o'clock in the morning, but rather take a cool shower, wear the thinnest cotton top possible, draw the curtains, and stay inside and read books under fans while sucking a popsicle.
This week I drove out near the Sandia Mountains and saw a long rattlesnake dead, laid out in a flowing 'S' on the yellow line of the highway. I saw bison and Appaloosa horses corralled by the side of the road. On evening walks in our neighborhood I kept mistaking hummingbirds for giant bugs. Last night we discovered that there is a mourning dove nesting in the wisteria that covers our patio. She looks shy and a bit scared of the dogs, and I can't help but wonder why she chose that spot. These animals all make this place seem wild and still a bit foreign to me. I like that.
More reading today, and more waiting for rain.