A Wild Hare, Smoke, Dust, and a Heatwave

I saw a black-tailed hare, a rare sighting in this area, I am told. Probably the fire over the mountain pushed the creature this direction. We were sitting on the circular staircase that leads up to the porch and deck -- me, the kitty, and the dog down at the base. I had just talked to Daddy on the cell and was watching the sprinkler dampen the dirt where my SO has optimistically planted grass seed. A little movement up the hill caught my eye. I saw the movement had already caught the eye of the cat. He was staring up the hill, through the pines. The ground is so thirsty, so dry and brown, that a dull-colored hare was not, at first, easy to see. I probably would not have if the thing hadn't moved. It was as tall as the dog, had ears that shot up pink and shaped like fat exclamation marks. He moved awkwardly, warily. And then the dog turned her attention from the fox-eared squirrels she worries all day, high in the top of the pines. Her shepherd head jerked around, ears forward. She's a sight-hunter and when she saw the hare move again, she was up and on the bound.

The hare took off, looking like a small antelope it moved so fast. The dog was halfway up the hill, and already past our property-lined when I called her back. There was no way she was going to catch that hare anyway. It was up the hill and gone in a flash, a wild thing on the run, an odd leaping gait, ears high, powerful back legs working. Even if I had thought to turn the camera on my phone towards the hare, I would not have been quick enough. The chance to see a black-tailed hare would have been missed.

My neighbor was envious when I told him what had happened. "Those are rare," he said, a little note of disbelief in his voice. He doesn't know me well enough yet to understand that I made sure of what I saw before I reported it to anyone. It isn't my way to make up something like that. For one thing, I don't have enough knowledge of nature and her ways to make it up. But I do have a good memory for unusual markings, for characteristics and body shape. And I have my trusty laptop and know the right "search" words to enter, Now, I find myself peering up the hill every evening at dusk, wishing for the hare to make a return appearance, even though I'm sure it won't. I know how much my SO would have enjoyed the experience, too.

It's hot. Man, is it hot. And it's smoky. Only the mornings are bearable and remind us of the loveliness from the winter and early spring. The fire over the mountains exhales in the afternoon, and continues to release rancid smoke that stops all outside activity. I long for the long evening walks with the dog, but the air is unhealthy. Any outside chores should get done before noon. The smoke, the dust from the road when cars go past, the record-breaking heatwave -- if it would just rain. Rain is what this country so badly needs. Rain, please, God. For the sake of the firefighters over the ridge, for the sake of the trees and the dusty ground, the grass, the dry streams, the wildflowers, for the sake of ME!

We're going to a Trash to Treasures sale at nine. We contributed some items to the sale, and now we're going to see what we might want to buy ourselves, and also to see if the stuff we took over there sells. Funny how you have hopes for silly things like that, for your castoffs to be useful to somebody else. The money made in the sale goes to the homeowners association for things like new lodge bedspreads, and fresh flowers planted in the beds by the restaurant. We simply needed to clean out our basement. The people who were here before had left a lot of what we consider junk down there. The rest of it is fit only for the dumpsters. We try to take a little each time we make a trip down the mountain to the garbage bins.

The boys are coming this Wednesday, flying in to Albuquerque, three hours drive away. I almost wish they could have postponed their trip. I'm desperate, as always, to see them both, but the conditions are such that I hate for this to be their first visit. I so much wanted the place to make a good impression, for them to see right away the appeal of this place to us, why we chose it and love it here so much. But with the fire and smoke, the heat and dust, this is not the green mountains we adore. My hopes were, I guess, too high. But the truth is, for the past two days, I have been longing for my Buffalo Wallow. At least there's air-conditioning back in Texas.

Onward ....

Fire in the Mountains

Our cabin sits in the middle of the Santa Fe National Forest. We have about 100 ponderosa pines on our 1.3 acres, as well as other trees - white oak, fur, etc. All of these trees drop either leaves or needles, and it has been so dry this year, that these dropped leaves and needles crackle underfoot. Humidity has hovered around 5%, and when the wind blows, it blows tremendously, reaching speeds of 50 mph. All of this makes this area vulnerable to forest fires.

And we have one. It's called the Pacheco Canyon Fire. It's burning about 19 miles away, over the Gascon Ridge. When the wind is right (or wrong) we get a lot of smoke. We drove down to Gascon and I took pictures of the fire. I sent one of the pictures to an Albuquerque television network and they published it on their website.

It scary to see a big plume of smoke on your immediate horizon. Even though all our neighbors have tried to abate my fears, they say we shouldn't worry until the fire crests the mountain ridge, it's still unsettling to look outside at an orange-yellow sky and to see flakes of ash sifting down onto the deck.

On another note: today my cat is officially 14 years old. He has rallied in recent days and seems happy here in the mountains. He drinks more water these days than I have ever known him to drink, and particularly likes to drink it outside. I'm just happy he's still with me, and have decided to enjoy the days I have him.

We went out with new friends last night, after drinks in their living room. They have a beautiful home, and I'm trying with all my might not to be envious. Ours is truly a simple cabin, was never meant to be anything but a cabin. That's the only drawback to having a place in a resort-ish community like this one. Our place was one of the first built here, back when there was no homeowners association, golf course, etc. Since the mid-80s the homes have gotten progressively more elaborate, until now, up on top of the mountain, there are million-dollar mansions with views to die for. Still, I admit it is fun to get gussied up and get to know new people. We were greeted by several people at the restaurant, mainly because of our friends, but it does make you feel like you belong. That's a feeling I truly do not mind.

Onward ....