tucson spring

Sabino Canyon on a sunny April Sunday (with three other random pix thrown in)

Sabino Canyon sizzles as early as April in Tucson, but we still get a bit of cool water and a couple of leftover blooms. Check out the fine gallery of Sabino Canyon photos below – and try to pick out the three random pix that do not belong. (Hint: It is NOT the sewer photo.)

Three fun facts about the outing:

1. Beezel was mad we didn’t have cash to take the tram. That’s his angry walk with the cooler.

2. The sewer photo is the epitome of an oxymoron.

3. The blue boot photo is the remains of a cactus chunk that stuck through the leather, giving me firsthand experience of Woman vs. Nature. If it weren’t for the quality leather (in a sweet peacock blue), nature would have surely have won.

Enjoy!

‘Bee’ careful in Tucson spring, a season that can sting

While we’re busy avoiding the rattlesnakes and javelina that blossom along with Tucson’s spring, we can easily forget one more potentially dangerous critter.

All hail the black and yellow bumblebee.

Many of us are reminded daily of how annoying bees can be – especially when we see the big, fat carpenter bee that somehow manages to stay bobbling through the air with the body the size of Asia. But many of us have also forgotten how painful sting can be.

The first and only time I was stung was as a toddler at a fateful family picnic in Dearborn, Mich. The incident forever prompted me to eat grilled food in the car. I have since learned not to swat, bat or otherwise make panicked flailing motions in a bee’s general direction. I’ve also learned not to wear vanilla-scented skin lotion while trekking through the forest after an equally ill-fated hike in upstate New York.

I thought I had insect habits mastered. But then a stealthy little devil bee caught me by surprise. As I stuck my hand in a bucket to scoop out dead leaves I felt a searing, sharp prick on my ring finger. I at first thought the prick was from a mesquite thorn or one of those burry goat heads, but as I pulled my hand from the bucket I saw the prick was attached to a writhing, dusty, deflated bee.

Did I mention the word prick?

Signs of spring in Tucson and beyond

We may not have robins and melting snow, but Tucson has a gorgeous array of signs that tell us spring has sprung.

Spring has always been my favorite season, when a dull dead Earth comes back to life – just like my brain.

Since I am one of those lucky folks who suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder, or SAD, spring is my own reawakening after several months of wanting to do nothing but drown myself in naps and supermarket tabloids.

My first inkling of spring is when the morning sun blinds me on the back porch. This blinding is gorgeous.

It’s also the reason I installed a massive patio blind that falls off its tracks if you pull the cords too rigorously.

Endless news releases about rattlesnakes are another spring dead give-away.

One Tucsonan, who chimed in when I asked about signs of spring on Facebook, insisted we have no spring. “I say we have four or five versions of summer and about two months of not summer.”

So true. But there is a cozy zone between wearing gloves to do outdoor morning artwork and wearing oven mitts to open our car doors. This zone is best reflected in our electricity and gas bills, as both are merrily affordable for a scant few weeks.

Tucsonan Andrew Ulanowski hit the nail on the head.

“I know it is spring when the license plates turn back to mainly Arizona, flocks of Winnebagos head north for the summer and the reduced number of left-turn blinkers going down the road for miles.”

Others mentioned dining al fresco, which some will do year-round in Tucson – the snowbirds often wearing shorts.

“Pollen, sneezing, watering eyes, sinus headache,” said one Tucson woman. “Need I say more?” She later added, “The flowers are nice, too.”

Longer daylight hours are another fine sign several mentioned, excited that it’s still light out at 7 p.m. We no longer have to scramble home from the dog walks by 6 p.m. to avoid the coyotes.

The Tucson list was rounded out by baby lizards and using the screen door, which is really a heavy duty steel security door with cactus, hummingbirds and other metal welded designs.

A few from the East Coast and Midwest also chimed in, duly reminding me why I moved from both regions.

“Up here in the frigid Midwest,” said one, “the first sign of spring is when the snow is all melted and I can pull out the Harley.”

Another said it’s hauling her bike up from the basement, which she will get to soon.

In Tucson we don’t have to store our bicycles in the basement for the winter. And not just because we don’t have basements. My bike sits nicely in my garage, albeit untouched and with two deflated tires, all year long.

Melted snow puddles and leaving my pea coat gaping open are two shining memories of spring in Michigan.

New York City has a massive telltale sign of the changing season. You know winter is over for sure when all the garbage and subway stairs begin to reek again.

[tnipoll]

–

Ryn Gargulinski is a poet, artist, performer and TucsonCitizen.com Ryngmaster who will never miss snow. Her column usually appears every Friday on Rynski’s Blogski but this week Friday is reserved for Tales from the Posse. Her art, writing and more is at RynRules.com and Rynski.Etsy.com. E-mail rynski@tucsoncitizen.com.

What do you think?

What sings spring for you?

What’s your favorite season?

Does anyone actually like winter the best?

tucson spring

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