Desert Oracle Radio, the voice of the desert.

Night has fallen on the desert.

And it has been a strange springtime so far.

Two months of springtime remain, which is a nice thought.

We've had a lot of rain, a lot of cold, a lot of wind.

Not too much in the wildflower department.

I was on the road last week and parked to eulogize my old friend Mojo Nixon down in

San Diego and the hillsides on the way were just covered and poppies and other such

burst of color through a lot of Riverside in North San Diego counties.

Out here in the desert, it's been pretty scraggly.

Other than some nice bunches of my roadside favorites, the Desert Dandelions, along the highways and sandy dirt roads,

Yellow Delos, they are sometimes called by me.

One thing I've rarely seen in these parts is a great big lupine growing in a desert

wash where I've often taken my daily walks over these past how many decades?

Too many. Too many too many years in one place the road can't fix that but when you get away from all the charming people get get out walking by yourself, get out of ear range of the sirens and the monster trucks and the military aircraft.

When you're still finding new ways to go this way or that way, even a dreary day can have its moments.

Like coming across a big lupine or being there when the parries and Olena stocks are just growing out.

A dozen years ago, my friend Barney and I sat down alongside a trail with our lunch a little south of here,

and we watched the flower plume rising before our eyes.

We caught it just in time on the day of ascension.

That was probably Bigelows, Nolena, with the big, big stalk, seven or eight feet tall.

It's got one of those

...