The Land Awakens in Springtime Color

LET THERE BE BLOOMS

With Enough Winter Rain, Nature's Springtime Show is On DESERT DWELLERS KNOW the ephemeral nature of seasonal change. At the first sign of transition, we head outdoors to celebrate the spectacles that manifest the turn of every season. The towering thunderheads of summer storms and the luminous leaves of autumn are overt reminders of the constant cycle of the seasons.

But the desert's passage to spring is not always so apparent. Some years the wane of winter and the wax of spring are so subtle that, except for a hint from the calendar, it might pass undetected.

With the vagaries of desert wildflowers hinging on winter rains, we can't always rely on their emergence as an omen of spring. During dry times, seeds lie dormant in parched soil. With too little rain, they muster only a sparse bloom, and their hardscrabble existence goes by without fanfare. In lean years, abbreviated desert blooms play out long before the vernal equinox, the official start of spring.

Following a wet winter, however, spring sunshine gently warms the moist earth, awaken-ing seeds from blooms past. In especially good years, the bounty of spring's renewal can transform a drab landscape into one of vivid colors. Rippled sand dunes burgeon with purple ver-bena and creamy primrose. Blue lupines, pink penstemons and yellow poppies decorate the arid land. Chicory and chuparosas; fiddlenecks and fairy dusters; bladderpods and blazing stars add their hues to the Technicolor display.

Desert dwellers also know where to find the splendor of wildflowers: The Sierra Ancha,

Superstition Mountains, Picacho Peak and Ajo Range are usually worth a look, even in years of mediocre bloom.

But one of the delights of spring is the surprise of finding a field of flowers in a remote and unexpected place. These blooms tell the tale of earlier soaking rains that saturated the ground at the right times and in the right amounts. And the serendipity of discovery turns a chance encounter with elusive desert wildflowers into a season to remember.

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[LEFT] As evening draws near at Four Peaks, Mexican goldpoppies mingle with brilliant blue lupines and curl their petals until the next day dawns. NICK BEREZENKO [ABOVE] Amid islands of desert shrubs in a sea of Mexican goldpoppies, saguaro cacti form an unmistakably Arizona landscape in Tonto National Forest. CHUCK LAWSEN

[LEFT] Desert globemallows create intense splashes of color in Siphon Draw in the Superstition Mountains. LARRY ULRICH [ABOVE] Tiny hairs on desert globemallows irritate the eyes, hence the plant's Spanish names, mal de ojo ("sore eye") and plantas muy malas ("very bad plants"). RANDY PRENTICE

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