one new mexico morning - july

House Finch

It's nothing special, just a morning that's delightfully cool, yet clear.   A morning when I take the time again to be outside, watching and listening.  Strangely (for this time of day) we hear a bunch of coyotes howl from not too far away; and somewhere very close two roadrunners are calling softly to each other.

Within view, various hummingbirds sporadically contest the near feeder, rest on the ocotillo, or even explore the hesperaloe.   And as we sit, not moving too much, a white-winged dove ventures to the bowl of seeds a few feet away.  The occasional black-throated sparrow stops by for a drink.   In the berm around the ash, quail gather shyly.  Doves and curved-bill thrashers attack the feed-block or stand like sentries on the top of the house.

Above, the moon looks like a smallish craft crossing a vast, blue sea in search of a safe harbor along the shore of one white continent or another.
It's just a quiet moment at home with our companions, who do not speak Human.  But recently I've too often spent mornings indoors, working or playing at this or that.  To be here, aimlessly watching and listening, with my notebook on the table in front of me but without writing much in it, is refreshing.

 

 Perhaps tomorrow morning, instead of sitting at the table, I'll just move a chair over into the shadows near the hesperaloe and see if I can get a better shot of one of the hummingbirds over there, rather than visiting the ugly feeder.

Hummingbird Visiting Hesperaloe

Usually the white-winged doves won't visit this shallow bowl of seeds when I'm nearby at the table.  I've seen 'em fly up from below, prepared to land here, then jam on the brakes and retreat as comically as animals in some Saturday morning cartoon show for kids.  But this morning they are visiting it, one at a time.