This evening's sunset was enhanced by the chamisa that we just happened to be passing, at just the right moment, on our walk ...
Monday, September 21, 2020
Officially, we don't have outdoor kitties - but now that the foxtail season seems at an end, LucyFur and Moth are allowed a five minute outing in the enclosed back yard at lunchtime. Moth starts banging on the glass back door about three hours before that, with her little soft paws. Here, Lucy has clearly found something that smells delectable ... we are about two minutes off from the ritualistic Clapping of the Hands, at which point they scamper back inside again.
Sunday, September 20, 2020
or Helianthus maximilianii. Because we're not usually in New Mexico at this time of September, it's been a wonderful surprise to have encountered all these yellow flowers everywhere - at the side of the road; in various place on our land. They've taken over from what one might think of as "normal" sunflowers - the big flashy ones. These are unequivocally native plants, despite their name: they were called after the naturalist Prince Maximilian of Wied-Neuwied, Germany, who led an expedition into the American West in the 1830s. Doubtless they have numerous native names. They are not so much sunflowers, as asters - like the Michaelmas Daisy - and although they have lots of seeds, so are very valuable for birds, they're actually rhizomatic, which is how they normally propagate. So - there are many of these, and they are a perfect autumn color and presence.
Saturday, September 19, 2020
Our local paper, the Santa Fe New Mexican, did its very best to claim RBG as its own, today: there was a lovely piece about how she used to come here for a week in the summer, in large part to go to the Opera (we were, indeed, ourselves there a few years back when there was a standing ovation when she came in - though I confess that at the time we didn't know what was happening ...). And there were reminiscences of her climbing the ladders at Bandelier National Monument, to see inside the caves, and of her going to Georgia O'Keeffe's house at Abiquiu, and, indeed, of how much she loved the skies - she would ask her friend (when she wasn't here herself) how "her skies" were. The answer, today, is very blue - but a little hazy with smoke from California. Or with grief.
Friday, September 18, 2020
On a devastatingly sad evening, the photo that I had lined up for today just wouldn't do - so I went out into the yard, and sought out our last, late-blooming hollyhock. (Flash would not have been appropriate). What can one even say, other than express so much gratitude - and - get - out - and - vote? Of course, I'd been living, like so many people, in some realm of magical thinking, believing RBG to be invincible, and to be able to beat all odds and carry on, at least into next January. And hearing how she'd hoped to retire in 2016, when the first woman President had been elected, made so much sad sense, too. Oh - sad, so sad. And very troubling.
Thursday, September 17, 2020
One more brave Morning Glory! I thought we'd seen the last of the deep blue ones, but this greeted me when I went out to water the plants this morning. In other wildlife news, at various times this morning a large flicker, and three quail made their appearances.
Wednesday, September 16, 2020
It almost looks like meditation (or preparing for another Zoom class). But no - she's watching someone dig up a gopher trap in our back yard, and find that, alas, it's failed to catch the gopher that - judging by its energetic excavations - is rather too rapidly approaching my potato bed. And yes - she does favor proximity to the long snakeskin ...