While I was gone, not one drop of rain fell on the ranch, which was probably a good thing. The ranchsitter
had enough to do without having to dig trenches. However, we had a major downpour the night before I left,
and when I got home five days later, the pasture was noticably greener.
A faint green haze atop the dirt probably doesn't seem like much to celebrate for you folks who live
someplace other than New Mexico, but if I had a bottle of champagne handy, I'd be popping it open.
Finally, there's something to eat besides dirt...
...and something to do besides play with fly masks.
The baby cholla cactus are sprouting, which is unfortunate.
The chamisa are finally blooming, so the tarantula hawk wasps are out in full force...
...not that Wynonna seems to care.
And the vine that thrives on neglect and no water exploded while I was away.
I sense a smidgen of hope that we all won't dry up and blow away.