Here in sunny southern Arizona we generally enjoy winter weather that would easily qualify as summer in some cooler temperate regions of the globe. We proffer sun to legions of cold-weary souls seeking succor from snow, icy winds, and leaden skies. Yet, the increasingly warm, dry, and sunny weather that draws snowbirds and vacationers alike may well portend a drastic paradigm shift in the natural history of our region.
It used to be that the Sky Islands of southeastern Arizona received approximately 30% of their annual precipitation in winter. Most of the rest, of course, is delivered during our monsoon season, which generally falls between early July and mid-September.
Of late, however, our winter precipitation—usually in the form of gentle rains or snow at higher elevations—seems itself to have “gone south.” If the recorded climate data of the past 100 years or so is any guide, then February should be a month of intermittent rain under overcast skies.
Remember peeking at the full moon in February and gazing at a perfect, glowing halo surrounding it? This is a moon dog, created by the light of la luna refracting through water in the atmosphere. Moon dogs frequently manifest themselves two to four days before a Pacific weather system enters our area. Winds that aspire to knock you down and chill you to the bone make you pine for the still, warm weather that abruptly just vanished.
Yet the wind is simply the price of admission for some winter moisture. A mere trickle of wispy clouds starts to infiltrate our area from the west, sometimes painting a flaming sunset. Typically, on the third or fourth day following a moon dog, a wall of clouds steamrolls in and magically transforms sunny Arizona into a completely different realm. Temperatures may not top 50 degrees, and the daytime windchill can easily dip into the 30s! This is the weather that many snowbirds and other sun revelers revile. They (you?) came here for sun, not this!
Here’s the rub, however. Most of our spring wildflowers rely a lot on winter precipitation. Yes, sun draws tourists and tourist dollars, but so, too, do colorful carpets of wildflowers. Fall rain sets the stage, but winter rains allow the emerged plants to flourish and to bloom even longer. Instead, this January we’ve been witness to some alarmingly warm and thoroughly dry weather that promises mostly dust and, ultimately, wildfires.
Still, not all is a loss. Here and there February will bear witness to a modicum of spring ephemeral wildflowers. A discerning eye will take in the beauty of papago lilies, their light purple flowers belying the simplicity of the grasslike leaves. Impossibly yellow California poppies are even more obvious. Filling the gaps on otherwise bare soil are tansy mustards with their tiny, yellow blooms. There is a native species, though a nonnative, invasive one occurs in our region as well. Popcorn flowers live up to their billing, as they seem nothing more than a minute version of that food.
Yes, February will deliver a much smaller start to what we perpetually hope will be our annual wildflower extravaganza. This year’s wildflowers need to be appreciated on foot, given the likelihood of their sparsity. Enjoy it, revel in it, but also cross your fingers, do a dance, and conjure up your best voodoo to evoke a much-needed el Nino for next winter!
Vincent Pinto and his wife, Claudia, run Raven’s Way Wild Journeys. They offer local tours dedicated to the preservation of the incredible biodiversity in the Sky Islands.