Moon, just a day over full, was still high when I left the hacienda this morning to go apple picking at the Burke Family Orchards in the fertile Mesilla Valley.
Barn cats were there to greet me.
Of course they were. Cats always know where I am and it was still kinda cool at 8 am.
The air was perfumed with a sweet, cidery ripe apple scent, trees laden with so many different kinds of apples, in neat, well tended orchards alongside blocks of pecan trees.
Now there are 2 pecks (half a bushel) of apples in the kitchen to dehydrate.
This squirrel is storing up a winter pantry.
But first an apple pie or two.