Sun straight in my face as I set out to our ditch this eve with Mag the dog. On the asphalt, many grey inch-long grasshoppers jumped away from my steps. Mid-May and they are that big, I noted. Approaching the ditch, could see the high water from 20 feet back, and Mag entered to wade on the edge.
Soft dirt of the ditch road is deep. Duck tracks are all around. Our Precambrian uplift towards the east – the Sandia Mountains – start to glow red – the sun has set. The gnats above my head are moving with me. My dog chooses the way over to the bigger Clear Ditch and I follow her. After her I step over the fence and onto the trail where I know animals are starting to move in the cover of dusk. I urge Mag to stay with me as she nuzzles the burrows. The gnats in their hundreds are still above me.
Sounds like children, but it’s geese honking, taking off from the flooded field. We pad over the wooden bridge, and I follow Mag down the bank. I fear the water is too deep for her – but the edge was shallow. It’s too dark to continue over to the river, so we head back. Happy to see a few bats dipping above my path.
The light is brightest in the southwest – the call of that wild territory. Through the trees on the western horizon the three planets shine. We in the valley are blessed with spring run-off.