lluvia oraciones

We are at 50% of the moisture we normally experience this time of year, and it is visible. On my last walk, the dusty road rose up to meet me at every gust of wind. As an ominous sign, wild fires started yesterday down south. Then last night, we had a dust storm so big, it felt like a glimpse of what our grandparents experienced during the Dust Bowl.

Dust devils rose like small tornadoes over the mesa. Strong, gusty winds full of dirt, blowing & swirling. They blew into town so thickly it looked like fog over the street lights. This morning, the feel of dirt still in our mouths. Everyone here prays for rain. Here's hoping those prayers are heard soon.

I don't have a picture of the dust out there, so I'm posting a post-rainy day picture from last year, full of green & moisture & optimism. Last year we had enough rain to pull us down from D4 drought to D3, so I'm going to keep hoping for a nature miracle.

Outside the other day, I stood from our yard and watched a hawk fly over our end of the valley. He appeared to have a fun time, floating, lifting, swooping in the wind current. Occasionally crying out. The cry of the hawk is a lonely one, a screech that pierces the air, and echoes in the rocks. It is one of those sounds you hear in Westerns, in a scene of big land and possible danger. After the hawk dropped from the sky into a large cottonwood near the river, I ran to get the binoculars. I just wanted one sight of him and that magic ability to so effortlessly fly. But he was gone.

We took a trip to Santa Fe for our v-day. We visited several thrift stores and then had Indian food for lunch. There are many things you give up when living in a small, out-of-the-way place, and here one of those an Indian restaurant. So its a special occasion kind of thing. The day was D.'s idea, and a very good one at that.

In December when we had lots of snow, it gave us cautionary hope that the winter would prove to be a decent one and fight this drought. But it hasn't. Little snow. No rain. The air is dry, the ground comes up in waves of dust. The trees are dry. And now, too early, the Spring winds have begun. We can still only hope. Maybe a rainy or snowy March? Those who deny climate change are fools, fools who believe living in denial is easier than confronting the challenges ahead. This high desert has existed for eons, getting by on just enough rain & snow, not a lot, but just enough. And now centuries of growth is dying. 

Around here you see the occasional bumper sticker, or poster in the window, "El Agua es la Vida"... 

getting dressed by the fire

I grew up in houses that were cold in the winter, they were old, drafty houses and my parents were not interested in high heating bills. so it is lifestyle ingrained into me that in winter, I wear layers of warm wools, inside & outside. at mom's farm, we had a wood stove, which meant the living room was always cozy. and as kids, we quickly learned, that to avoid being naked & cold in our bedrooms, we just needed to take our clothes to the living room, & get dressed by the fire. 

lately, I've been getting dressed by the fire again. 

& I admit that I have my mornings when I wish/miss just hitting the thermostat, hearing comfort in the sound of a furnace kicking on. but most mornings, I find this is part of my winter cycle now. I wake, I start a fire, the room warms up, then I change out of pajamas. 

we took a walk today, bundled up against frosty winds. the snow fell on our faces as we walked. we don't have the snowfall, la nieva, here at the house that the mountains up top do. they, las nevadas, newly white, are shrouded from view in white clouds. 

we took a different path today, taking the opposite direction, and this time looking over our little valley to the north where we so often walk. we found a trail, old and not often used. at one point, on a plateau amidst the boulders, I got a feeling that bigger things were around us. frankly, I got a little spooked. I don't know if it was the softly howling frosty wind, the fact that d. said he smelled an animal...claiming it must be a sheep though my brain went right to "hungry bear"...or just some sense that we were being watched--by something in the trees, rocks, air, mountains. this is when we turned to head home. 

but, we'll try the walk again. it was fun to see that, right here, we still have new trails to take.