Springtime in the desert

We’ve had an unusually long winter here in Tucson. By this time last year, the primrose in the front of the house had been blooming for weeks; this year, it hasn’t blossomed at all yet. We’ve had plenty of water, but the temperature has been chilly. Today, we shot right up to nearly 90 degrees, and I knew that my annual “hate this place” season has unoffically begun.

Don’t get me wrong; half the country still has months to spend inside, and I can spend all afternoon out on the patio. I love that part. As much as I miss the snow that I grew up with, Tucson in the winter is a great place to be. But as Heather reminded me today, in three weeks it will be too hot. I’ll be a sweaty, hairy beast by the time I reach campus on my bike; my teaching shirt will be wrinkly; I’ll be grimy with sunscreen; there will be mosquitos, and the shade will no longer offer refuge from the heat.

Ah, the desert. If I’m lucky, however, the primrose will be blooming.