Coyotes, skunks, bobcats, tarantulas, scorpions, centipedes, peccaries, kangaroo rats, jackrabbits, owls, nightjars…me.
Last night I was sitting outside at 11:00 pm, eating my dinner, wide awake and full of energy and I realized that when left to my own devices, I have fallen into the rhythm of creatures that live in 106-degree heat. They hide and sleep during the day and come out to frolic once the sun goes down and the air cools to a reasonable temperature (below 90).
I like it. It feels right, natural, necessary.
I’m up before the sun, wandering through my darkened house, crawling around the sandstone landscape, taking advantage of the cool dawn air that will heat up within minutes once the sun climbs over the canyon rim.
When the orb of heat does show up, I close the windows, close the shades, turn on the fans, and pray for the best as the rising sun creates rising temps.
At night, I reopen everything and let the coolness invade my home.
The nearby side rolls add just a hit of moisture to the slight breeze that swishes through the leaves of my front yard shade tree inviting me to relax with the dogs and listen to the night sounds of crickets and owls.
In my repose, I wonder if taking naps midday, every day, is being lazy. At midnight, when I am going through case files for work after cleaning out my fridge and doing 3 loads of laundry, I know that I am being a lot more productive than I would be during those excruciatingly hot mid-afternoon siesta hours.
The lizards and the snakes and the coyotes know what they are doing. I am following their lead.