Spring: Oak Creek Canyon

The Hopi gods, residing in the arctic solitude of San Francisco Peaks, must become restive as the long winter draws to a close. While winter is still cavorting in the lofty heights of the mountains, spring is setting up shop in the lower elevations, hanging out her pretties, tempting the world with her wares.

A few miles from the base of the mountains where the Hopi gods dwell, the plateau, from which the mountains rise, breaks off into canyons, one of which is called Oak Creek Canyon, named from the stream running through it. How tempting a place for the Hopi gods to go, when the time has come for them to return to the land of their people! How resolute and steadfast they must be to resist the temptation, for Oak Creek Canyon is truly a garden spot, the antithesis of the barren mesas of the Hopis!

Just a few days ago the peach trees were gaunt and naked, whose branches were dry sticks to which the wind sometimes told a winter's tale. The canyon is protected by massive walls from the storms that pass over the rim above; so seldom do the orchards ever feel the storm's fury. There came early the warm days of spring. The trees, eager to be about their business and have some fun, responded to spring's endearing caresses and almost overnight, it seemed, branches that were dry sticks flaunted flamboyant bouquets, pretty enough to steal the show in that radiant garden spot called Oak Creek Canyon.

Spring is early this year, the folks said, maybe too early. Might come frost, they said; then we'll lose part of the crop. The blossoms, oblivious to the worry their early appearance caused, nodded gaily to their neighbors and joined in the pageant that is spring. Jack Frost stayed away. The old bounder was probably up to mischief someplace else. Like the folks said, spring is early this year... R.C.