May dawn
In late May we begin to slow down and prepare for the hot weather to come; we're getting into the summer routine of walking some very early morning miles before the sun is up and trying to get the heavy garden work done before ten o'clock.
The patio has become our most important "room." When I get back from the morning mile I have some coffee, read the paper, and do a little sudoku at the tile table under the trees. This is a season of languorous, guilt-free afternoons when quiet work like reading, knitting, and writing are done out in the shade of the big Chinese elms. By mid-afternoon, when the heat sets in, I realize that I'm beginning to understand the concept of siesta and I no longer push myself to do anything too vigorous during that part of the day.
The roses and irises and petunias are blooming. The oleanders are coming into their own, huge bushes of red and pink and white. I'm waiting for the gigantic rare* saguaro cactus down the road to bloom. I understand the flowers can be quite fragrant and I can't wait for the experience... No, of course I can wait--this is the Land of MaƱana and no one rushes into anything or hurries through the moment at hand.
The hummingbirds are here and I have some new feeders set out, following these directions. The tiny birds remind me of aliens as they hover curiously just a few feet from my head, looking into my face.
The nights are filled with the songs of toads and crickets.
Coming up this weekend is the Southern New Mexico Wine Festival out at the fairgrounds. There will be wine tasting, music, and arts and crafts. I'll take lots of pictures and report back.
Roses and petunias on the patio
4 comments:
I love reading your blog. As I sit here having coffee while listening to the rain .. you are walking in the warmth. Gives me hope that mine might come back ...
Oh yes, this is wonderful patio weather and the hummers love to come close when I'm watering the garden. I haven't heard crickets or toads yet though. :)
Your photos are so beautiful! Thanks for sharing!
I love that photo, Clair. And your description of your day is lovely. Here in the South, we understand the concept of siesta, too---at least in the summer. We have the heat, of course, but the humidity makes it so much worse. I would hate to have a house without a porch.
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