Flowers of memory

Because of the unseasonal rains, the "flower fields" outside Borrego Spring have burst into bloom the way they usually only do in the spring. This was a chance those of us who visit the area only in winter and summer never get, so we took a day trip to see them on the eve of our return to New York. They're familiar from photos my parents have shared, as well as many featured in the Anza-Borrego Desert Wonders facebook group of which I'm a member, but here they really were! 

Beyond the flagship pink desert sand verbenas, white dune primroses and yellow desert sunflowers we found a dozen other flowers too (like the marvels above), though none making as big a splash. Besides the fact that verbena-primrose-sunflower trifecta seem to appear only in a few places (two are marked with a flower sign on the official Anza Borrego map), the most striking thing was something none of the photos had shown - the view from above. The verbenas and primroses spread in all directions from a single point, verbenas sprawling opportunistically along the contours of the ground, primroses with a circular symmetry reminiscent of straw stars. I had something to give back to the group!

The desert lily, the Facebook group's holy grail, seemed to be blooming too, so we asked a docent at the Visitor's Center if there was somewhere not too remote where we might find some. She directed us to a simple campground some miles beyond the famous flower fields, where she'd seen some ready to bloom on Saturday, though she couldn't promise anything. They're small, she warned us. Desert lilies creep out of barren-looking sand with tentacle-like leaves, which appear singly and doubly before buds emerge. We saw many just starting before spotting our first buds - spent! Soon we happened on others getting ready to bloom and finally what turned out to be a half dozen that were in bloom. The flowers have a lovely sweet scent, but you need to put your face close to the ground to smell it. After a while, we started noticing desert lilies popping up in many places - they're a distinctive blue-green.

I was buzzed as we drove back to my parents' house on the coast. How fortunate to have had a chance to see these glories! (Even in spring they bloom only when - if - it rains and only last for a short time.) But then I had a strange worry. Had I really not seen them before? Had we not in fact seen them together just a few years ago? Was I not then glowing just as I was now? 

As those who know me beyond the blog can attest, my memory is not the best. Its gappiness - and my awareness of it - can create some odd and elliptical sensations. Today's species of subjunctive déjà vu is one of them. It seems to show up when I've finally done something I'd long planned or hoped to, perhaps even more specifically something I'd looked forward to announcing I'd finally done... 

Except that, really, I had not expected ever to have a chance to catch the Borrego blooms. I had resignedly contented myself with triangulating from others' photos the way one does with real estate pictures. Maybe I was confused by how closely reality met my unreal expectations! Or intoxicated by the desert lily's perfume. 

As it turns out, I really haven't seen the bloom before (unless perhaps as a child), and certainly not the desert lilies! I have a new question, now that my interaction is again mediated by artfully shot and carefully selected photos, now including my own. That picture of the desert lily above: did one of the left-side leaves move?