Time to inspect the garden. I refer here to the garden that surrounds me to distant hills, and beyond to the Santa Catalina Mountains. I hoist a small pack containing bread and water, essentials for desert exploring, and hit the trail. The wind blows sand into my eyes and teeth, but also brings the scent of spring in the high desert, more than adequate compensation for my troubles.

Inventory. Certainly the most stunning of desert flowers rightfully belongs to the most desert of plants, the cacti: hedgehog, saguaro, fishhook, and the others. Merely opinion, but there you have it. The sundry cactus flowers have earned this high praise based on their large size, brilliant colors, and their ephemeral nature, often appearing a single day per year. This transience adds to their charm, in the manner of a rare jewel. And the insects, at least, agree with me. Seldom are these blooms without company, an intoxicated honeybee or bumblebee wallowing inside the cup, partaking of the sweet golden nectar.

The wind persists, with swirls of sand that sting the face and scratch the eyes. But there is still so much to see, the world alive with the pulse of spring and glow of morning. Who among you would turn back now? Not I. I forge ahead, through an army of saguaro cacti, saluting at attention as I parade by. The color show continues with sunflowers, scarlet penstemon, paintbrush, and so much more. It seems to me the wonder of life is accented in the desert by the very paucity of flora and fauna, each miracle standing alone in the rock and sand, vivid and free, the way it should be.(next photo)