OK, here's--
"I thought the rattlers wouldn't climb up the tall clay pots
but my neighbor found a big rattlesnake
in one of her large clay pots on her wooden deck.
About that time I watched a really big rattler crawl over--
not around-- a stack of bricks by a flower pot
which means the snake could easily
climb into my tall flower pots if it wished.
Fortunately the snakes seem to prefer the dirt
that dampens between the flower pots under the mesquite tree
to the flowerpots themselves.
My neighbors wooden deck gets too warm
and is probably the reason the snakes
crawled up into her flowerpots.
The snakes here haven't done that yet.
Not yet.
But I now look before I reach into the flowerpots
to test the dampness of the soil.
The big rattler was lying in the shade in wait
for a mourning dove.
He was on the other side of a big pot
with gourd sprouts in it.
I couldn't see him.
I was wearing my sound canceling headphones
when I stepped out to the porch.
I think the cockatoos had been screeching
so I left the headphones on."
When I'm writing, just-- you can get those for the--
I don't listen to music through them.
I just try to take the edge off of noise.
So here I was--
beware of doing that-- walking around on my porch
with my sound canceling headphones.
"Although I barely heard it I felt
the vibration of the rattling.
I took off the headphones and located the snake
before I stepped around the big pot
and found myself face to face with the big snake.
I don't like to be surprised by snakes--
it means I'm not paying enough attention to my surroundings.
The light!
This first morning of June on the stretch of the big arroyo
just above the old iron culvert that resembles a coffin,
bright in the sunlight I found a small cabochon of turquoise
in the shape of a heart on a gravel bar I've
walked past a number of times recently but never saw.
Was it there those other times?
When did it appear?
Was it visible only in the 6:20 AM light?
Maybe the light at 8:30 AM is brighter but the wrong angle,
and so bright the turquoise stones appear to be enam--
and so bright the turquoise stones appear to be enameled.
Now the misty breeze smells just like the ripe prickly pears
boiled for syrup.
The rain smells of wet cactus.
The wind came down from the east and there was
a little thunder or lightning."
It was a gentle rain--
"It was a gentle rain that soaked into the ground.
The air had been so hot but now suddenly
the breeze off the rainstorm feels almost icy.
The palo verde covered with dainty yellow flowers
sway in the wind, at their feet the drifts
of fallen blossoms swirl.
The cooler air lingers in the low-lying places, the arroyos.
It feels delicious on my face and is lightly
perfumed with the late-blooming catclaw bushes in the arroyos.
The wildflowers that bloomed in February, March and April
are dry stalks, their seed pods the shapes
of spiders, bees and stars.
They are luminous-- backlit by the rising sun"--
as lovely in this--
"as lovely in this light as they were in flower.
At 5:15 AM, the sun is up but not
quite over the Catalina Mountains.
To walk or not to walk?
I tell myself the more walks I take the more material
I will have for the manuscript.
Yes, no.
I decided, yes, a slow walk.
I didn't have any coffee.
I left the dogs indoors but I uncovered
the one legged macaw's cage.
I started out and felt a bit odd on the first hill
from not eating.
But I can think of no better place
to die than out on the trail in these hills
with the saguaros and all the other beings I love.
But after the first till I get warmed up and feel better
the longer I walk.
The low angle of the rising sun through clouds
filters the light through a yellow shimmering haze that
makes the early morning golden.
The dry stalks and leaves and the sea pods
were backlit by the sun and transformed to flora of light
in another dimension.
I saw a set of large boot-prints on the trail.
A big man.
Size 13DDDD.
I see little tracks of night insects and night rodents
in the fine dust inside the boot-print--
he was here yesterday.
After the Gila Monster Mine the boot-prints stopped,
and I saw only rabbit and javelina tracks, and those
of insects on the trail which filled my heart with relief
and happiness."
You can tell where humans rank sometimes, in my--
"At the javelina dance place I found no dancing tracks.
They dance here because the soft sand feels good
and there are no pebbles or stones
to stub their cloven hooves.
They take their dirt baths in select spots
where the runoff moves the rocks and pebbles
and leaves only the finest soft sand and clay which
they carefully prepare by pawing it with their hooves
and rooting it up with their snouts and curved incisors."
And of course, the dust baths protect them
from insects and biting things.
"The morning after the first rain
I will be sure to walk to see what sorts of gatherings
went on here last night.
From the fresh tracks in the damp sand,
I can tell the deer reared up on their hind legs
and danced in mock combat with one another.
They frolic because the rain fills them
with joy and erotic excitement.
For years I rode my horse along the trail I now walk.
The horse watched the footing and did all a work
while I enjoyed the view from the top of the horse.
Now I walk and I keep my eyes on the trail
while scanning up and around from time to time.
I stop now and then and listen as my father taught me
for deer hunting.
I am losing my hearing after all those years of my childhood
when I happily watched my parents fire
high-powered rifles and large hand guns without ear
protection so I probably miss a great deal
but still I can hear the happiness of the curved beak
thrashers and speckled cactus wrens
over the recent rain and the wild flowers."