Bayonets

The wind screamed over the rooftop prying at the rafters and the rain hammered in sideways sheets and needles on the walls all night. Again it is misty, muddy, and wet but the frogs like it at least. They don't even bother to go back to bed with the dawn light, faint as it is wrapped in a dim foggy veil. It is a morning to sleep in snuggled warm in your sleeping bag. And so I did until I couldn't stand it any longer, conditioned as I've become to getting up early to the rhythms here.

Strong warm coffee, eggs, and tortillas seem to hit the spot just right on such mornings as these up here. I practiced a Spanish lesson as everyone slowly trickled in and morning turned to afternoon after a lecture. Without a break in the deluge of rain all day I took off back to the warmth of my blankets after lunch finishing grading papers and reading in between classes.

A talk around the table with banana bread and oatmeal cookies went great with Natural History class in the afternoon. Laid back, informal does it for me. Edward Abbey, wilderness, the Southwestern Deserts, and many tangents in between. There is just enough light for a walk before dark accompanied by the first croaks of frogs and the fortuitous absence of rain. The ground is squishy and wet like a sponge, the wildflowers and ferns look like the just woke up, and the water beads and collects on the puyas like first blood of dew on giant candelabra bayonets.