Dear Albuquerque-ish/East Mountain,
We need to come to an understanding. A friendship, even.
First, you threw the rattlesnake at me. Fine. I handled it. It wasn’t graceful or smooth. Possibly laughable. Still, I took it in stride.
Next, you decided to see what I thought about level 2 hurricane winds outside my door. Alrighty. Battened down hatches. No problem. High wind warnings are do-able.
The high pollen warning you hit me with a good shot. I hate pollen and it turns out NM pollen isn’t fond of me. I took my GFSE and oil capsules, though, avoiding a knock out blow. I considered the score 3-0, you down.
… you threw the bear at me. A full grown, out of hibernation bear. A big bear. Alive. Near me and my six babies. Running across the road right in front of me with nothing in between us, except the huge deer guard on my suburban.
And my scream suspended in the air.
An adult black bear was pretty stinkin disturbing. Seriously.
No matter the many exclamations from Albuquerque residents (including two park rangers) about how they’ve never gotten to see a bear and how “lucky” I was, I was not reassured. No matter the encouragement that a simple purchase of a fog horn or being sure the eight of us are loud as we go on hikes (instant justification for the kiddos to scream in the mountains, great?!) would deter any future bears from entering our personal zone, I was not reassured.
Finally, I talked to some local families and only because they have kiddos living in the mountains and have never had problems (including the picnic area we visited TWO DAYS EARLIER mere yards from the sighted huge non-hibernating really big and close to me and my babies bear!), I was reassured. So… you almost had me, but not.
That probably evened the score, though.
Then, you did a real whammy. You went from a huge black adult gigantic living non-hibernating big running huge bear, to a teeny tiny insect. In my bedroom wall.
Turns out, you have proven your power with mere chirping.
Did I mention the stinkin’ field cricket was where I could not reach it, yet the chirps it emitted were actually in the 50 decibel range (google it, my friends and be amazed)? Did I mention that the little bugger didn’t start until I turned out my bedroom light for sleeping? Did I mention it didn’t.shut.up all night?
For almost a week?
I was about to toss in the towel on thinking we could be friends, Albuquerque.
I remembered the views. The lovely mountains and forest. The “summer” weather that is gorgeous.
I remembered the drive into Albuquerque that seems beautifully different every time I make it.
I remembered that the high prairie has a look all its own and that I like it.
Suddenly, pioneer women were called to mind. Pioneer women who faced rattlesnakes, and high winds, and pollen/dust, and bears, and locusts. They toughed it out and befriended you, Albuquerque.
I can do that too. Let’s be friends.
Or at least, let’s call a truce, ok?
P.S. What did you say? “Just wait til winter!” Sigh. Oh, man.
“She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come.” Proverbs 31: 25