The desert is blooming

The desert is blooming--wildly, I'm told. Best blooming season in years. In Seattle, this kind of spring would be sort of "Ho hum." If you really want to see wild spring flowers, go to Seattle in April and May.

But the desert doesn't bloom like it has this year very often. Once I got over my Seattle expectations, I've gotten very excited about the desert bloom.

Aren't these just totally weird? This is the Octopus Agave, which only blooms once when the plant is 7-15 years old. After that one 15-25 foot stalk blooms, the plant dies. You can't beat that for plant drama.


Well, actually, you can. The Century Plant, shown here in sculptures, lives for 25 years, puts up this wild 18 foot stalk and then dies. Wow.


For more drama, go to Sabino Canyon, right outside of Tucson and see the forest of Saguaro Cactus plus the spring blooms at their feet. Did you know that it takes 70 years for the first "arm" of the Saguaro to develop? My sister Beth immediately asked "How long does the second arm take? How did they figure out the 70 years?" I don't know. Do you?



One of the signature plants of the region is the Ocotillo. To me they are a premiere Dr. Seuss plant, with their long canes and orange tassels at the end.






Along many of the roads, you see lots of LYFs (little yellow flowers) and mallows of several colors. I particularly like the soft orange of this mallow.


Penstemon does very well around Tucson, although it doesn't grow wild here (I think). The Tucson landscape designer Scott Calhoun described penstemon as "weaving the desert garden together."

Scott thinks about garden designs the way painters design paintings. He views the sky "as a canvas behind our gardens" and focuses on on the way plants "picket the skyline." I recommend his books on desert gardening, which is totally different from Pacific Northwest gardening.


It is so strange being in an environment where I don't automatically know the flora and fauna. I'm so used to being able to look at a plant and at least know roughly what plant family it belongs to and something about its characteristics. No clue here.


Many plants are very subtle. To avoid competition for water, they naturally spread themselves apart so you don't get much "wham" blooming impact.

Also, the color can be in places you wouldn't expect. This plant has lovely blossoms, but I love the beautiful fuchsia-colored stems that come out first. Not bold, brassy fuchsia, but a subtle rainbow of fuchsia, purple, and pink. Very easy to overlook, but gorgeous when you slow down and look closely. A lot of the desert is like that. Sort of like slow food. You need to slow down to fully enjoy it.


For subtlety, you can't beat the tiny blooms of the Fairy Duster. Sweet, but subtle.



Most cactus are not yet blooming. That comes in May.


There are a few cactus just starting to bloom in April.


My favorite are the tiny hedgehog cactus with that bright, bold fuchsia that I adore.

Not to be outdone by the wildflowers and shrubs, trees are blooming as well. The mesquite trees have blooms that are clusters of tiny pom poms. We have gutters filled with tiny, aging yellow pom poms.


Why is the desert blooming so vigorously right now? Here's why.

El Nino storms have been sweeping in all winter and dumping rain and snow. Huge cumulus clouds roar in and drop curtains of rain for a few hours. When I took this picture, the wind was so strong I had a hard time holding my camera still and not be blown around.

So there I am, gentle reader, bravely trying to capture the beauty and wildness of spring in the desert before I get drenched and blown topsy turvy. Actually, it was a lot of fun. Wild wind and sun, gorgeous scenery and my car just a few feet away in case that curtain of rain got too close.