One of the things I love about New Mexico is the transition from season to season. Some seasons are like boxers, masters of the jab. Reaching out, reaching out but waiting to unload the power hand at just the right time. Last night’s sunset was a perfect example. Sitting at a friend’s house sipping mezcal while the sun took its final plunge. Looking west toward the Jemez, you could see the snow coming, dancing across the peaks. Fickle, dropping here and there amid patches of late sun. There was no wind. None, nothing at all. Just silence.
By morning, things were different. Waking to a dulled glow through the blinds. No sun and the pinging of wintery mix on the skylight. A right cross from Mother Nature. Not a big snow, but still coming six hours later. Temps below freezing so the snow will take its time. The snow will loiter, giving up only when the sun manages to wrestle back control. The Earth is happy here, now, but the pleasure is only temporary. Now we watch and wait for the cycle to run once again.
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April and November are the roller coaster months here in the middle of NC, drastic shifts. It was 74 here Saturday, and 25 this morning at 6:00. Happy for no snow yet, even happier if none at all.
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We have low temps now, in the teens here this morning so the snow is sticking around. But, full sun.
In a more innocent period of my life I lived on a small dairy farm in once rural New Jersey. Our seasons and weather were not as extreme as where you are but just as dramatic in their own right. More than once I would sit on the safety of our 1812 2-family farmhouse with one arm around my dog watching as a thunderhead made its way across the land, feeling the cold front hitting first, followed in a few minutes by the first hints of rain, then lighting performing its ballet in the heavens, thunder rattling the ancient windows, chips of ice bouncing as it hit the ground. When the storm passed there would remain the smell of fresh air, sometimes tinged with ozone, a feeling of renewal as water trickled noisily in downspouts and dripped off trees and bushes all around. Then the sun warmed the air and with it pulled the moisture out of the ground slowly returning everything to as it was before the storm passed through.
Thank you for reminding me of those days…
Jon
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There is nothing better than doing just what you subscribe. Then posting it all to IG every eight seconds.
LOL! Took a minute to remember what IG stood for. Not even remotely on the map. I don’t have a presence on IG, FB, Twitter and so on. I only “follow” a couple of quality bloggers such as yourself. Too busy taking pics, learning how to print in a digital world and working on the house. PS: Great tip on the Uni Jetstreams; already added to my stocking stuffer list. Stay safe and be well…
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using my Jetstream….right……now
Went to bed thinking WW3 was about to begin. Woke with the relief it isn’t, but then heard Mr T’s speech and hid under the duvet. Taking advantage of days of rain with some salt printing.
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Trump is the perfect bad guy. He’s dumb, clueless, angry, ignorant, loves violence but has never done it himself, and knows absotultly nothing about the world. He’s perfect for us. As long as you wear a blue suit with a red tie and wear a flag pin we will follow you into the Gates of Hell. Putin can only wish for this kind of devotion.