Each winter Michael and I flee the chilly foggy Snoqualmie Valley for a tropical get away. Last year it was the Big Island of Hawaii. A few years ago it was Nicaragua. This year we only took a little over 2 hour flight to Arizona, a place we have both visited repeatedly, having friends and family there.

Spring was already here when we left: daffodils in blooms, long shaggy lawns, and the buds on the fruit trees swelling. Errant spring riding in early on some subtropical jet stream pummeled us with heavy rains and abnormally warm temperature in February. The trip to Arizona was more about drying out than warming up.

Arizona was under the influence of the same weather patterns as us, warmer and wetter than usual. Spring had begun there, too. Signs of spring not needing to be sought out, but enjoyed.

Chuparosa, or Desert Honeysuckle (Anisacanthus thurberi), a shrubby relative of acanthus, was in full bloom and full of hummingbirds as we hiked along the Jewel of the Creek trail in Tonto National Forest northeast of Phoenix.

Mormon tea (Ephedra trifurca) not quite as showing as other desert bloomers was heavily covered in odd little golden flowers.

The first flowers of brittle bush (Encelia frutescens), as much an icon of the Sonoran desert as saguaros, were opening in the early hot sunshine.

Blue dicks , or desert hyacinth (Dichelostemma pulchellum) was blooming everywhere among the prickly desert shrubs.

To my surprise a desert anemone ( Anemone tuberosa); the bleaching midday sun made it hard to photograph this delicate beauty.

Though there are several native cassias in the Southwest, feathery cassia (Cassia artemisoides), an Australian native and invasive species in the Sonoran desert, can be seen in many gardens. The sweet fragrance it emits fills the air of my sisters subdivision.

This stunning aloe grows along my sister’s drive.

This stunning aloe (Aloe speciosa) was in bloom at my favorite nursery down there, Desert Foothills Gardens Nursery in Cave Creek.

Prickly pears budding up in my sisters neighbors’ garden, showing that spring is just beginning.

 A fishhook cactus budding up.

Part of out trip we spent in the mile-high city of Prescott, just past the upper limits of the Sonoran desert. We had been there before in April and it snowed, so you can imagine our delight at the warm sunny days we spent mostly outdoors, breathing in the rarified high-altitude air.

Prescott is said to have a Mediterranean climate, and its chaparral flora bears more resemblance to the coastal flora of southern California than it does to the Phoenix Valley just over and hour south. A strange sort of crossing point for the Sonoran and Great Basin deserts, and the upland pine forests. Though there are cacti there, the saguaros and barrel cacti are replaced by pines, junipers and evergreen oaks.

It is great place to botanize, even in early February.

The beautiful rock formations at Watson Lake north of downtown Prescott offer a myriads of microclimates for plants: ferns and mosses in the shady crevices, willows in the wet valleys and cacti on the brazen hot faces of the rocks.

Pointed-leaf manzanita ( Arctostaphylos pungens)  was blooming everywhere among the rocks.

Its elegant little flowers were busy with bees.

The lovely blue foliage of shrub live oak (Quercus turbinella) that formed low thickets among the rocks.

These impressive 100-year old cottonwoods grew in the  moist river bottom at Watson Woods Riparian Preserve.

Even more impressive were these ancient alligator junipers( Juniperus deppeana) high up in the Bradshaw Mountains. They can live to be 800-years old. There were 2 here a male and a female just yards apart that seemed to be the same age. Venerable beasts! This photo is of the female called Big Mama and is registered as the largest in the country.

It is not always the oldest and biggest that catches my eye. This fresh brassica had me down on my belly in the pine needles to catch a picture.

This lovely little milk vetch ( Astragalus sp.) was hard to miss among all the gray detritus, a reminder that winter wasn’t yet totally swept away by spring.

Not all the detritus of last year was a disturbing reminder that winter was still at hand, at least at 6000 feet of elevation. The seed head of this grass made charming little circles throughout the understory.

It was Valentine’s Day weekend when we were there. Every grocery store was laden with red flowers, especially roses, and tulips. Though tulips can be v bought any day of the year, it is the first bounty of red tulips at Valentine’s Day that are a cultural signal of spring. When I returned to the Northwest on Wednesday tulips were already budding up, some even showing color. There won’t be any need to look for signs of spring this year, you can’t miss them.