For everything, there is a season

Late summer/early fall is such an interesting time of the year in New Mexico. 

The green grass is fading away, but the screaming fuscia Desert Four O'Clocks are in full bloom.

I never cease to be amazed by these plants – they boisterously appear out of nowhere and burst into bloom once a day, allegedly at 4:00. For the record, all of these pictures were taken between 7 and 8 a.m. last Thursday. It's a confusing time of the year.

Whenever I'm in town now, the intoxicating aroma of roasting green chiles is a constant reminder 

that summer is ending whether I'm ready or not.

The mornings are cold and dark when I'm doing chores at 6 a.m.

I have to turn on the porch light so that Wynonna can see her breakfast,

and Smooch is so busy howling back at the coyotes that she doesn't want to eat.

But by early afternoon, it's hot, the flies are sticky, we're all a little cranky,

and I'm tempted to turn on the air conditioner.

If Smooch and I don't leave for our evening walk by 7:00, 

we can barely see the road by the time we get home.

There are still a few more months (I hope) before I have to fire up the wood stove

and start going to bed earlier and earlier.

I'm just not ready for summer to end, or fall to start, or winter to begin.

Time, could you just stand still for awhile until I get my bearings 

and prepare myself for short days, long nights and Christmas shopping?