You Poor Thing(s)
by
Dick Prosapio © 2006
We know folks who live in central Texas who actually
believe that we live in a place bereft of plant life. They have
heard that we may have tumbleweeds but they are sure that the rest
of the flora runs the gamut from three or four trees to unlimited
variations on the theme of cactus. I can understand their confusion
given the amount of green stuff they have to slash their way through
every summer, their one of two seasons. The other being ice storm.
We just returned from a trip to the tropical Texas
steam bath country where the ubiquitous sound of the air conditioner
provides the only relief from the non-stop drone of traffic. Out
here in the high and dry lands we don't get much of either.
Actually that's not totally true, we did invest in a
window air conditioner last year and used it for about a week. What
with global warming that's about triple the amount of time we needed
it the year before. We will never catch up with central Texas
however.
Hopefully.
This past winter brought big snows. I'm talking about
the Buffalo, New York kind. Not that they lasted as long as those
northeastern winters do but when we get one that leaves three feet
of snow, not in drifts but everywhere, and then stays around for
weeks, that's BIG!
Spring has brought rains. Plural. Kind of rare around
here. We're used to a relatively dry time of it until July. So dry
that we have five seasons, one of them being our "Fire Season", I'd
prefer "ice storm" but we go with the flow here 'bouts. But no Fire
Season this time, instead, we are turning into our version of "lush
life".
We have acres of green grass, the tough New Mexico kind
that has been lying low until the expected monsoon rains which are
scheduled for July-August. But surprise! they've come in Mayand
already weeds we've never seen before are rejoicing. Along with the
flowers of course. We get the usual dandelions, verbena, Indian
paint brush, locoweed, beardtongue, morning glory, four o'clock,
white and yellow daises, and more I don't know the names ofand this
year a bumper crop of yucca are booming out their huge, white
explosions all over the land.
It seems the drought we have been in has been moderated
to a large degree and, of course, we are grateful. Next year we may
return to high and dry, but even then we will hardly be without
plant life. The cholla will bloom with deep purple flowers in the
most extreme conditions, as will the miniature bouquets we call
"rabbit bush", each bearing thousands of tiny yellow blossoms that
can cover a hillside and meadow, and all the rest, the
opportunistic, will await the next bounty.
All the plant life here, and some of the animal life
too, namely the frogs, hide out till the rains begin and then
suddenly, literally over night, every barren plain, every rocky
hillside, every sandy, rocky wash will be alive with life.
We value our pockets of paradise, those small arroyos
and canyons that hold hidden treasures like a small, clear pool of
water with dragon flies hovering under a willow and maybe a few
cottonwoods. And, of course, the magic of flowers perfuming the
summer air.
You can have your easy livin' lushness, I'll take the
extraordinary anytime, the southwestern desert.not a useless
"wasteland", it's the home ground of miracles
