These are my fields, and I am taking you along on my walk today. I've been missing you! It has been such a busy summer, as most summers are I suppose. It's bright, and not all that early. I always think I am going to walk at first light, and never make it. But by nine in the morning it is already too hot. And the morning glare has even made the Sandia Mountains invisible in this shot.
I gave it another go, because you really must see the eastern silhouette of the city of Albuquerque!
I have never been one for an exercise gym, so this is my dusty treadmill, complete with bird song. Free of charge, and always open. I can actually leave my front door and take a path to these fields! It is a dedicated public space, which I take quite personally.
Dotted across the cultivated fields are a number of rustic benches for pause or contemplation.
There is a pack of three coyote that have made a home here over the past couple of years. And the Canadian Geese have already started to gather. In a few short weeks they will be joined by flocks of Sandhill Cranes to winter over along the Rio Grande. The river also supplies irrigation to the crops and the public gardens which one can cultivate for a fee.
Each gardener marks their rows with an identifier, whether it be a statue,
a whimsical bunny,
or twiggy rustic chair.
The garden is a brambly plot full of all manner of vegetation, and worked by gardeners of all skill levels. Even the elementary school next door has a space! Wouldn't that be wonderful for every school in the country?
It's all operated on an honor system. but I would love to pluck a few stems of the seedy dill that someone has planted! It gives off a wonderful fragrance as I pass by.
Tons of jewel toned fruit lies plump and juicy all hidden away on the lower branches.
Or on the upper ones!
A jaunt through the growth always offers a few surprises.
There are the typical variety of companion flowers mixed in in masses: marigolds, sunflowers, poppies, and cosmos, but none of my photos captured the spectacle properly in the harsh light. (The goldfinches are a delight to watch feasting in the early hours.)
Nothing here seems grown for show. Even the roses are hard working at feeding the active populace.
Even a stalk or two of bloom does not go un-noticed. . . .
You can see what a hard scrabble affair it is to grow a decent garden in this clay, even with irrigation and regular summer showers!
The basic style of the bird feeders tucked in here and there speak of the practical approach to most features of life here in the desert southwest as well.
A scraggly olive tree tells a story of struggle amid this patch of green, but it is a lovely oasis nevertheless.
I have no idea what this growth is, but the birds love it in fall and winter!
As well as the masses of small plums grown in clusters almost out of sight.
I love wading through this half wild garden when there is time.
Snaking through the hidden pathways along with the lizards, bunnies, and roadrunners that live here.
Taking a bit of shade under a young tree,
And stopping for a moment of solitude to begin another day.
Climbing up the banks of the ancient acequia that has fed these fields for a few hundred years now enlarges the view.
It's time for another lap around the corn and alfalfa before the sun rises too high.
Such a good way to begin or end the day! Thanks so much for coming along with me! I wish you could have also seen the massive formations sailing up from the desert at Shiprock, NM, the spectacular red cliffs at Moab, Utah, and the peaceful chairlift ride at Sundance to the light of the blue moon. But I never snapped a single shot!
Also impossible for photos of the wondrous meteor shower overhead as we lay searching the moonless skies on a mountain top deep into the summer night a few days ago. But how could I ever forget the ecstatic voice of a child witnessing her first shooting star anyway?
We have squeezed so much into the last few weeks, but it's not over 'til it's over!
Happy trails to you!