Early Spring in the San Joaquin Valley

     Nothing says spring in the San Joaquin Valley like orchards in bloom and the snow-covered Sierra Nevada Mountains in the distance. I used to love the commute to Fresno in February when the orchards lining 99 were like puffy pink and white clouds.

     I took the long way home two days ago to feast my soul on nature. Here, fields of winter wheat.

     A new orchard, probably citrus, with almonds behind.
     Yes, we're in a drought again--there's not enough snowpack in the Sierras.

     Pink is stone fruit, plums, peaches, nectarines.
     Yes, California water laws desperately need revamping.

     Almonds are white.
     My book group is reading David Owen's Where the Water Goes: Life and Death Along the Colorado River. Of the seven states and Mexico that share in the Colorado's water, California takes the lion's share at 27%.

     I wish we could see the Sierras from our house, like friends who live further east, but I can breathe them in when I turn onto the street that our street is off of.

     A recent sunrise, from my workroom.

     Ah, how we complain of the heat in summer. 100 degrees and more is not uncommon. But it usually cools at night, and we  turn on our whole house fan. And I always remind myself that this is so preferable to the humid summers of my childhood in Pennsylvania.

     Not everything is greening up yet--the Valley oaks are winter glorious. When water is released from Lake Kaweah in the nearby foothills, the ditches like this one near our home flow.

     Where rain is infrequent, it is adored. Along with slaking the thirst of the parched earth, it washes everything clean, plants, buildings, air. Agriculture comes with a lot of dust: plowing, shaking nut trees at harvest.

     We try to play our part by having a drought tolerant yard...

     ...with a small lawn in the back, where the tulip trees are budding out.

     We need to pick the rest of the lemons as the tree will soon blossom.

     Passing birds love our numerous feeders in the front and back yards. They are cheap entertainment.

     Spring is cyclamen and daffodils,

miniature daffodils, parsley coming back, and flamingoes courting,

freesias, one of my absolute favorites, becoming plump, with violets, another favorite, blossoming below,

our new Killer Cranberry Salvia reblooming,

as is the hosta,

and violas, aka Johnny Jump Ups,

hummingbird sage,

a monster artichoke that is about 6 months old,

and bearded iris hiding secrets,

Mexican sage reblooms,

as do lavenders.

This one on the front corner mound has hung over the boulders forever,

while fern leaf lavender is new to our yard this year.

Calla lilies unfurl,

and soon, just on the corner, the strawberry stand will open. Johnny will greet us with a smile and pile the baskets high, and Doug will have eaten his fill in the half mile from the stand to home. For weeks, we will savor the unimaginably sweet strawberries, as we have since the Hmong first moved to the Valley, thirty years and more ago.