Spring in the desert remains quiet. Though it is still quite early here in the high altitudes of the mountain west, I know my tulips are already blooming at my old house in town. I search the desert for blossoms and find very little so far. Perhaps I have not yet developed the keen eye necessary for desert spring.
Birds appear to be the surest sign of spring so far in my high desert yard. I have watched pairs of ravens as if in a dance. And the other day on my walk along the gorge, I spotted a pair of black hawks and their synchronized lethargic wing flaps soaring toward me and I nearly cried, so moved by the sight of them. Primarily, we have a nest of sage sparrows just outside our fence. They fly up onto our roof to sing a little song and return swiftly to their nest in the sagebrush. I feel honored they chose to be so near to our home, guarded by a lazy old dog who never wants to come inside.
Of course, the main sign of spring on our mesa top is the wind. We had an early mud season…
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