As I was reading last night I noticed a three-inch golden scorpion making its way across the bed towards me. My first thought was how do I get it out of the house? And I realized that most people would simply smash it with the book. Not me. I would normally cover an insect with a glass, slip a paper underneath it, and take it out. But my glass still had an inch of fruit juice in it so I scooted the scorpion onto a newspaper and balanced it out the door.
Why is seeing a predator more exciting than seeing an ungulate? No bobcat today. A deer eating next to my fence, a rabbit bounding across the road away from me when I got my mail, my friend the roadrunner on his daily rounds, and the usual assortment of birds.
The Ice Melted on the Santa Cruz
The high on Friday (May 28) was 100° at 3pm, so the ice melted on the Santa Cruz. I tried to find out the history of that expression, and only found this comment on the Web:
Today the ice melted in the Santa Cruz River! Yup, today was the day! BREAKUP! You ask yourself what in the world is she talking about???? Well, here in this fine city, the first day of the year the temperature officially reaches 100 degrees is the day the ice melts in the Santa Cruz River. HUH??? EXPLAIN! Well, first of all, the Santa Cruz river is usually a dry river bed … unless it is monsoon season, when the dry river bed turns into a vicious, treacherous, swift moving river! But only for a while! Then it goes back to its former self…dry. The local media (ahem) has dubbed the first day of 100 degrees as the day the ice melts in the river! http://wroamin.blogspot.com/2007_05_01_archive.html
A Pleasant Evening
The sound of the wind in the trees and the call of the doves which a friend said sounds like Who Cooks for You? Who Cooks for You? (But I think it’s co-co-kaju, co-co-kaju.) One of my windbells clanging. And the birds cheep cheep, tweet tweet. The flap of wings and the sound from I10 whooshing in the background. (That instead of the Amazon’s insect whine.) It doesn’t often carry this far. Maybe there’s moisture in the air? But no clouds.
The moon tiny and white in the sky. A jet from the airport almost intersects it, but is gone quickly.
I’ll sit and see if that small sailing cloud Will hit or miss the moon. It hit the moon. Then there were three there, making a dim row, The moon, the little silver cloud, and she.
The Death of the Hired Man, Robert Frost
My cat, cautious as she is, sits next to me on the chaise lounge. The evening is pleasant, especially with grapefruit juice and gin.