Winter Signals Its Arrival…Ode to Summer

It’s been a few weeks, I note that the ruby red hummingbird feeders outside my kitchen window drain more slowly... I no longer open the shutters over my bed to breathe in the air and I burrow beneath all four layers of my blankets... this morning I raised all of the blinds, pulled back the drapes that have faithfully tempered the sun’s rising heat, stilled the blades of the small fan in the living room in synchronicity with the indoor temperature gauge... I wore sandals and a short skirt to the Gallup Farmer’s Market yesterday... my toes turned blue and numb, my hands stiffened with cold in spite of a brilliant New Mexico sun and the warmth of market shoppers’ laughter and chatter... a thick fog lies fat and cozy in the valley’s dips and crevices before giving way to the liquid gold runoff of an eastern sunrise. I must be mindful of sunless commutes that obscure the four bull elk who blocked my passage for a moment, bold stares on marked turf... the corn is tall and heavily tasseled, ripe for harvest, and yet... leaves once glossy and green are already edged in yellow giving way to limp, luster-less resignation foretelling a harvest past... fat, furry black caterpillars find their way inside, I carry them back out curled up soft and petulant... they will try again... the living room windows frame the open wood shed with its few sticks of twisted juniper and its sagging rooftop covered with the sunbleached skulls and bones of forest critters recalling another time, another era, cougar screams in the pre-dawn hours echo and ricochet across the canyon like reflections in a hall of mirrors and coyotes yip-yip-yip in choral alert... shape-shifting seasons tremor on a changing horizon... sunflowers salute a noble farewell. ~ Eve Mato