But they go by so fast.
But they go by so fast.
June is the cruelest month in New Mexico. It’s supposed to hit 100 degrees today at 6,500 feet in the Sandia foothills. Humidity is soaring at 7 percent. Wildfires are burning in the Gila, the Pecos and father north, near El Rito, obscuring my visions of cool, clear streams running fast in the mountains. Arizona …
Soon after I got carried away tweeting about water this morning, a fellow tweeter in Santa Fe spotted smoke rising from the Pecos Wilderness in the Sangre de Cristo mountains. I was still savoring coffee in Placitas, watching birds and enjoying the first morning in nearly a week free of wildfire smoke from southern Arizona …
This morning’s wildfire smoke started me thinking about our last big snow. It was December 2006 and it was a big one for the upper Middle Rio Grande valley. A record-setting 11.3 inches landed on the airport in Albuquerque. We got close to a couple of feet up here in Placitas. That is my late …
Fire season is obviously here when you can’t see Cabezon in the morning. It is 60 miles west of me, across the Rio Grande. Usually it is a clear landmark, the most visible among the Rio Puerco volcanic necks. I am staying inside instead of taking my usual early walk with Cowboy. There’s even a …
I don’t know whether it was the coyote ruckus and Cowboy barking or the smell of rain that got me out of bed at 4:30 in the morning but we were out observing. Not a drop fell here north of the Sandias that I could tell but the smell of rain to the south and …
Just for the heck of it. Cabezon, volcanic plug or head of the slain monster, covered in snow Wednesday, Feb. 17, 2021. The view from dream ranch.
I started thinking about the weather when sister Hope sent me photos of life in Montana. We started sensing what was coming here in Placitas on Friday. The wind picked up from the west and it was time to brave the construction-clogged traffic in Bernalillo and stock up on food and allergy medicine: Climate change …
We were taking in the views Tuesday morning, glad for moisture in the midst of drought. The first bird I saw was a Townsend solitaire perched on a fence post. Cabezon was clear to the west. Maybe unwisely, I decided to check my email. The first message was a little more odd than the regular …
dream ranch 