La Noche sin Agua

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I went out at 3:00 am to check for water. The sliver moon had gone to bed, but there was a ghostly glow from the clouds reflecting the city lights. Not a creature was stirring in the dead silence that was occasionally punctured by the distant sound of a car or truck on I-25. There was water in the irrigation ditch, but the gate was still locked, so the only thing I got out of stumbling out into the pre-dawn hours was a cottonwood silhouetted against the light reflecting off the clouds.

We’ve been reading “Lucky Luke: Les Dalton dans le Blizzard” while we give Stretch his fluids. When we got to page 36, I noticed the kids at the desks had what look like iPads. They are supposed to be slates, but the kids don’t have chalk in their hands, which make them seem even more iPad-like — but since this edition of “Lucky Luke” was first published in 1965, Steve Jobs was himself a mere schoolboy and the iPad only a twinkle in his eyes.

 

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Stormy Saturday

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We had a stormy Saturday that produced a lot of clouds, wind, and few snow flurries and but basically not precipitation at our place.  Despite the weather, I managed to get half of the iris I had to dig up for the electrical upgrade planted, watered the tulips that are starting to come up, got a door installed on the study, and made it out to get photographs of the stormy day. I am feeling quite productive today.

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Morning Glow

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I was awakened by a pink glow — by the time I got outside with my camera the pinks were turning into reds and yellows. The sky and clouds were interesting throughout the day.

 

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City Lights

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On our way out the river on Saturday, Nicole mentioned that the beautifully warm weather we were experiencing would not last. Being an astute Burqueña, she knows our weather well — sure enough, we had snow yesterday, and today we had mostly cloudy skies with cold winds. I stopped on the way home and took photos of the city lights under a stormy sky for the panorama . The moon is 93% full tonight and the clouds were beautiful swirling around under it.

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T-House Down

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When the old Territorial House burned on July 23, 2012, I was saddened by the damage to the historic landmark I had grown up with, worked on, and even performed in. The demolition started last week and the first two photos show all that was left of it at 8:00 am this morning. I took the last photo of the orange barrels on my way to class this afternoon as I imagined the stormy sky marked the time that the last vestiges of the T-House were dumped in a trucked to be hauled away. The site where the 213 year old hacienda once stood was vacant and scraped clean when I passed by on my way home tonight.

 

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Light of Rose

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Cleaning out a travel trailer this morning, I found an old scale and iron that made for a nice vintage B&W photo. We had strong winds all day today that blew clouds overhead. At one point the clouds were thick and low, and looked like they might produce a little rain, but alas no, only cold, dry wind.

 

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Scratch that Itch

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I was trying to get Stretch to pose for a photo, which he wasn’t in the mood for, so he scratched an itch in defiance. The light and clouds were dramatic on the way in to work this morning, as was the light on a bicycle locked to the grating at 3rd and Gold.

 

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Little Drops of Rain

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I spent most of the day putting together my presentation on Troubadour poetry and music for French 385: Travels in Provence. It rained most of the day, and during a break in the weather I went out and photographed the storm passing over the Sandias. On my way out to the river, I noticed there were still a few drops of rain the wind had not blown off a rose bush — it reminded me of Led Zeppelin’s “Thank You”, which has a verse that begins “Little drops of rain…”  I had been reading medieval poetry all day and started thinking that “Thank You” could be modern Troubadour poetry.

Troubadours originally wrote their poetry in Occitan, the language of Provence, France, also called Provançal. I don’t understand Occitan, so I’ve been reading the poetry translated into English by William and Frances Paden in their book Troubadour Poems from the South of France. Women Troubadours where called trobairitz, and the most famous trobairitz is La Comtessa de Dia. After reading many troubadour poems, La Comtessa de Dia is one of my favorites.  Here is one of her poems named Estat ai en greu cossirier / I have been in heavy grief circa 1169:

I have been in heavy grief
for a knight who once was mine,
And I want it to be forever known
That I loved him too much,
I see now that I’m betrayed
For not giving him my love
Bemused, I lie in bed awake;
Bemused, I dress and pass the day.

If only I could hold him
Naked in my arms one night!
He would feel ecstatic
Were I to be his pillow.
Since I desire him more
Than Floris did Blanchefleur,
I give him my heart and my love,
My wit, my eyes, for as long as I live.

Splendid lover, charming and good,
When shall I hold you in my power?
If only I could lie with you one night
And give you a loving kiss!
Know that I’d like
To hold you as my husband,
As long as you’d promise
To do what I desired.

Here are the lyrics to Robert Plan’s Thank You, 1969:

If the sun refused to shine, I would still be loving you.
When mountains crumble to the sea, there will still be you and me.

Kind woman, I give you my all, Kind woman, nothing more.

Little drops of rain whisper of the pain, tears of loves lost in the days gone by.
My love is strong, with you there is no wrong,
together we shall go until we die. My, my, my.
An inspiration is what you are to me, inspiration, look… see.

And so today, my world it smiles, your hand in mine, we walk the miles,
Thanks to you it will be done, for you to me are the only one.
Happiness, no more be sad, happiness….I’m glad.
If the sun refused to shine, I would still be loving you.
When mountains crumble to the sea, there will still be you and me.

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