An unusual weather pattern has settled over the region for nearly two weeks: thunder-storms and rain showers in the driest month of the year. The land and its inhabitants have responded to the gift of rain, all in their own way. Birds and plants are easy to observe; seems like a good year for both. More birds than I suspected are living immediately around the ranch-house. Bluebirds and grosbeaks give color to the juniper trees, but the mockingbirds are the entertainers. Seems to be two nesting pairs, especially active at sunrise and sunset.
    

 

   Most of the recent days have begun with blue skies and bright sunshine. Warmth and humidity build into clouds bumping into the continental divide and by early afternoon storm cells are dropping rain and hail: an early imitation of the mid-summer monsoon rains. Blue, sun-filled sky will return without a doubt, but for now the clouds bring their own enchantment to the high desert skies.
     

 

      Little sister Sophia arrived in New Mexico for a visit; came for the sunshine, stayed in the rain. Storms and resulting mud dictated where we could go, and be reasonably safe and dry. Her all-too-brief visit included giving flight to a fallen fledgling grosbeak; chased by storm from a high, rocky mesa; receiving a ‘yah-te-hay’ and handshake from old Ben Joe when he stopped by to use the cell phone. Mostly just the time being here, a different sort of time.
     

 

    One exceptionally cold, wet, stormy morning a few days into Sophia’s visit a puppy showed up at the ranch-house. The story was easy to predict. From the moment I handed the pup to Sophia, they were inseparable. Sophia dried, fed, washed, introduced the puppy to a new life, and made plans to take her along home. As good dogs do, she named herself from the circumstances: “Souvenir”…Souvie for short. Souvie went everywhere that Sophia went, generally in an experimental way. They are both now home in the green hills of New England.
   

 

      In the dry, sunny days before the recent rains, I was fortunate to get out, roam, explore, and discover. The new country I was invited into gave up secrets only in small bits and pieces, slowly after much searching. Hints of time long gone that will bring me back.
   

 

 

    Badger and his new traveling companion moved out and away from the small, rocky canyons, skirting along the edge of large, open valleys. The name ‘Ancient Child’ bothered Badger; his friend was neither. His skills, knowledge, and logic surpassed most grown men. His way of covering ground was deceiving; in many ways his body seemed out of proportion to itself. He could not effectively draw a bow, but was deadly with the ancient atlatl.
   

 

    Their journey was circuitous, with no apparent direction. Time was spent looking, slowly; neither one had any known destination and so were in no hurry to get there. In the foothills leading into the mountains water still flowed in a deep canyon, slowly carving as it had for a few million years: the results were astounding. On a pine-covered hill above the gorge

Badger was told to remember the place: when he returned again for the first time he must not forget. They headed south, threading their way through canyons and valleys to the pine hills far in the distance. Someplace out there they would find a new home.
     

 

 The morning of Sophia’s departure we all danced together in the early sunlight. Even the sadness of long absence could be pushed away at such a time. And so we all danced and laughed.