Sidetracked Charley

I wrote a poem this morning on Creative Journey about fall creeping into the valley. It seems early but I only have to look at my photo files and garden journal to know it is about time. The grass is not as gold as in the photo above but that may be because of the extended monsoon season. But there and there is a branch on an aspen which is already gold or a Virginia Creeper vine turning red. There are just so many images you can put in a poem unless it is the Iliad. But as one is writing it so many images spring to mind. And I found myself thinking long about the signs of fall. The hummingbird feeders are down to two which I fill only every other day. That is down from three filled three times a day. There are now more seed pods than bulbs on the holly hocks. I shall miss them. Under house heat does not go on until the end of October but I plugged in the heated door mat on the deck outside the studio. It was gift. I would never have bought myself one. But when it fails...

May Day and can the summer people be far behind? They also go by the name Second Homeowners, and part timers. Definitely not tourists. Tourists have no investment here and behave as such. The Summer People have second homes (called cabins) or condos they let out for the winter peak times. Many plan to ultimately retire here in the mountains. I have several friends who are second homeowners. We will catch up over coffee and lunch, and shared community activities.  They show up in May to get the houses opened up and repairs made and catch up with all the other part timers with coffee or lunch at their favorite place. They come to escape the heat of Texas mostly. They come for the variety of summer activities here, not the least of which is golf and trekking. The highlight will be when the extended family comes in July. I usually hear from various returning couples to check if I am available to pet set some date in the summer when they plan a trip to Santa Fe or up to Pagosa...

It was a Discovery Channel program on the great African migrations I believe where I learned that the herds of animals begin to get restless prior to movement. A tension builds and the individual members seem unable to enjoy the grass or their neighbors or even the shrinking waterholes. And at some point a critical mass is arrived at and they set off. I noticed this with Purple Martins on a very unscientific level. My father and mother loved Purple Martins, and Dad, a master carpenter, built several martin apartment houses. The birds arrived to occupy them on Mother's birthday, March 29th. You could almost calibrate your calendar by them. Then about now every year the parents of that year's fledglings took to the trees and abandoned the constant feeding of their young until they got hungry enough to follow them to the trees. For two weeks the trees seemed alive with the frenzy of the Purple Martins coming and going from their flights to catch mosquitoes and other bugs over...