There are times I want to leave this state, pack up and find a new adventure somewhere else. But then autumn trundles around, and I’m reminded why I always hesitate to leave New Mexico.
I adore September and October. Between the autumn equinox in late September and the changeover to standard time in early November—this has to be the most wonderful time of year here.
Occasionally, New Mexico—namely the northern half—plunges from summer directly into winter, but usually the change is wonderfully gradual.
The mornings are cold now, requiring layers of clothing. The afternoons are still hot, requiring those same layers to be tossed. The sky is such a perfect shade of blue that sapphire would weep, creating the perfect backdrop for the glorious golds of the cottonwoods along the winding Rio Grande. The breeze tickles its way across those changing leaves while the grasshoppers buzz along their way. The humming birds may be mostly gone, but the crows have migrated up from the river. The sounds in the air seem closer, seem to echo more.
And the need for a nap is more pressing than usual.
It’s a much more peaceful time here, markedly so after the cracking dryness of winter, the dust storms of spring, and the pounding monsoons (when they actually come) and cruel heat of summer. It’s the time breathe. It’s the calm before the oncoming holiday mayhem.
There will always be somewhere “better” than here, somewhere that seems to offer greater promise. But this is why I’m so reluctant to leave New Mexico: this peaceful—even pensive—portion of the year. Well, this and many other reasons.