Spring is in the air, and in New Mexico, that means literally in the air, in the form of dust, pollen, and tumbleweeds. On the really blustery days, you might even see a small dog or a pancho-clad senior citizen (too much sail area for such a frail body) become air-born.
Tough times will pass, but tough people, they say, remain. I suppose the same could be said of the local flora. While the rest of the world celebrates Spring with ebullient enthusiasm, anyone who has lived in New Mexico for any length of time has probably had their joy at the sight of Spring peach or apple blossoms turn to dismay when the those blossoms are immediately withered by a hard freeze. But the trees persevere, and once or twice a decade may even produce fruit. I have fond memories of the four cherries one of our trees blessed us with a few years back. All four were eaten by birds.