Soon the high-country's sun hits the bedroom window with a soft pounce. Coffee Girl starts her day by walking from the foot of the bed to my head. She slowly and tenderly drops her head on my neck, and holds it there. That is her daddy's official morning hug, I guess.
The dogs are impatient for me to finish up on the internet. An hour after sunrise it's time to get serious about hitting the trail. Since it's a holiday we'll hike instead of mountain bike in order to avoid the hordes of motor-crazed yahoos.
There aren't many wildflowers, but they're nice.
Hunters are probably the only people who have ever come up the volcanic ridge that we were walking on. I doubt that hikers would. The scenery has not received the imprimatur of Government, a numbered brown stake.
But I loved the contrasts of grass and trees, ridge and cliff. Most of all I loved the breezy openness.
Near the top of the grassy area a raven flew by. They are my good luck symbols. They are too camera shy for a photo but I did capture one of their cousins a few minutes later. El Cuervo, the crow, a fanned-out tail.
The cliffs were a natural amphitheater. It seemed like eavesdropping to listen to it all, the insects, falling trees, woodpeckers, crows...I sat there for twenty minutes. I've never really listened to a forest before. It certainly wasn't the mystical forest-murmurs of a Wagnerian opera. It was more like a cell phone conversation that was breaking up.
On the way down I was frustrated traversing the steep slopes in trail runner shoes. I wanted to walk home along a grassy ridgeline without bumbling into ravines or dense forests. At one point the other side of the ravine looked more promising. No sooner did I get across than I looked back to see the old ridge showing a continuous path of grass. Talk about the grass being greener on the other side.
Back home I showered and then napped with the dogs. It's so nice to see them wasted. Back in the ancien regime of cheap gasoline, when I drove up to the Inland Empire of the Northwest in the summer, the afternoons were so dry, sunny and hot that they were just something to suffer through. But now in the Southwest, I have monsoon clouds and higher altitudes to look forward to. It improves your life quite a bit not to dread six hours of mid-day.
[*] Those wishing to "brush up their Shakespeare" by looking up text based on your mouldering memory might enjoy http://www.opensourceshakespeare.org/ .
