bonny day

I'm loving the return of the morning coolth. The dogs and I have been walking for an hour these last couple of days. Part of the riverbank has burned, further east than we've been for awhile. It must have been a lightning strike, as the burnout pattern suggests that there was moisture present. It's a little bit eerie to walk through blackened brush and yellow-brown trees, but on the other hand one can see a lot further. And since the coyote attack, I've wanted to keep the dogs within eyeball distance.

There's also a pair of some type of hawk--Harris, maybe?--that has accompanied us the 2 times we've been there. Yesterday they followed us and I thought I was imagining it. Today it happened again so I know it's deliberate. They stay a little behind, and then fly a little ahead. For some reason it pleases me quite a lot! I speak to them, of course. My son would roll his eyes, but smile too.

Flies seem to have territory as well. When I enter a fly's zone, he (she?)'ll buzz all around my head, then hitch a ride on the back of my shoulder until I turn my head and gently blow it away. The cycle repeats until I've left his (her?) patch of space.

(There was a brief mention in the newspaper yesterday about terminology for this season. It said, in brief, that Monsoons are what you get in Asia. Our rainy season is actually called the Chubasco, which I like a lot. So that's what I'll be calling it from now on.)

During the chubasco season it's very normal for the riverbed to have some flow. It hasn't happened yet, but the ambient moisture has increased dramatically. The edges were still sharp on the crescent-shaped divots picked out of the path by a horse that went walking earlier than I did. And I don't know if it's because of the fire, but the whole landscape there was almost silent. It was far enough from the road that the traffic sounds weren't audible. I love to walk without sound, my whole body listening....

....for what, I don't know, but I don't need to....