Spring is the time we associate with verdant and new life: baby animals, budding plants, a greening and lushness of nature. So maybe our seasons are a little goofy down here.
We've had a pretty great July. My dad was given credit for bringing the rains at the end of June, and since then we have had a number of afternoon rainstorms and soaking rains. Just last week it rained for four or five hours in the night time (since I couldn't sleep, I counted). The result is that spring has sprung, and it is high time to get the mowers out on the highway. It also means the weeds are growing faster than they can be pulled from the garden.
The baby animals have been around, though now a little more visible. I've seen a few fawns running across the highway instead of running for cover, and even a baby antelope made a jerky dash for a fence line in front of me. Last week on our way to mass, the buffalo were out in the pasture for all to ooh and aah over the tiny babies with their paler coats and miniature forms.
The pastures and far flung fields have greened up so much in these parts. On recent drives north and south, it was comforting to see the grass has finally come in. I am sure the ranchers are grateful. We did make a trip to Denver over night last weekend for a load of house things, and it wasn't much past Trinidad that the green faded out. How lucky and blessed we are for a better-late-than-never spring!
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