More kinds of cacti grow throughout the Southwest than in any other region of the country. But the Southwest is home to many different kinds of plants. Some need a lot of moisture, while others grow and flower even in the midst of drought. Cacti and other succulents, shrubs, and grasses dominate the lowest, hottest elevations in the Southwest.
The basic strategy is to conform to Liebig's Law of the Minimum , which simply states that the growth of a plant varies with the nutrients including water it is provided. When the plant is deprived of nutrients, it cuts back. In order to survive in the desert, the plants and animals here are interdependent. The plants give the animals food and shelter, and the animals play a key part in distributing the seeds that ensure continuation of the plant species.
If you look at the flowers in the desert, they are usually filled with insects and bees. If you stand at a good distance, you'll see the numerous kinds of birds which also depend upon the plant for survival. Whether you live here or are visiting, take the time to enjoy the abundant plant life that thrives in the Chihuahuan Desert. You will find numerous opportunities to do this; in town, in the mountains, near the rivers, and in the far reaches of the desert terrain.
Like us on Facebook. Connect to Facebook. Spring Bloom in the Chihuahuan Desert. Rainbow Cactus, Mesilla Valley. Spring does not creep across the desert on little cat's feet; nor does it come in with frolicking lambs and sweet breezes. Spring can bring an explosion of vibrant and colorful life; it can be a succession of frigid snowstorms; it can blow in dry and hot on gritty winds.
Native peoples also made a paste from it, to treat pain The Sacred Datura Blossom has long captivated artists and poets. Imagine what is missed, however, if this is what you expect when you come to the desert. In Personal Narrative of Explorations and Incidents in Texas, New Mexico, California, Sonora, and Chihuahua , Bartlett wrote: We toiled across sterile plains, where no tree offered its friendly shade, the sun glowing fiercely, and the wind hot from the parched earth, cracking the lips and burning the eyes As far as the eye can reach stretches one unbroken waste, barren, wild and worthless.
Even so, in a chapter on trees and plants in the desert, Van Dyke wrote: Aside from the blossoms upon the bush and tree, there are few bright petals shining in the desert. Waves of flowers sway in the breeze and bees dance from one to another. Cloud shadows and splashes of sunlight sweep across the landscape.
On my knees, I discover the even smaller flowers of purple mats, bajada lupines, and wild onions hidden within the cloak of color.
Ants and beetles and lizards scurry about, birds sing from the bushes and soar overhead. Stimulated by winter snows, spring rains, and summer monsoons, more than 3, species of flowering plants paint New Mexico landscapes in a palette of vibrant hues.
Starting in March in the southern deserts and mountains and traipsing northward with warming temperatures and spring rains, the bloom peak reaches central New Mexico by May. Come summer in the northern half of the state, perky flowers creep up the slopes, through canyons, and into the high mountains.
By August a menagerie of brilliant, ground-hugging flowers follow the melting snow across alpine meadows above timberline.
With an ample monsoon, another burst of blooms occurs at lower elevations from August through September. Hardy plants may even hold flowers until the first frost. Read more: The Los Alamos Nature Center blooms with a favorite desert plant, thanks to the botanical acumen of this retired geneticist. Discovering a dramatic wildflower landscape set against rugged hills and jagged peaks always gives me an adrenaline rush, yet the flowers are so elusive that finding entire fields of them can be as rewarding as a prospector hitting the mother lode.
Timing and temperature are important, too. One year conditions are right for poppies, and another year we get yellow bladderpods. I usually drive the back roads in January to see where flowers are starting to germinate. Above: Robinia neomexicana , or as it's known to the layman, New Mexico locust. Photographs by George Miller. Following the tide of blossoms that progressively inundates the deserts, badlands, valleys, foothills, and finally the mountain peaks can be addictive.
Patches of sunflowers blanketed the desert flats on the road to Sky City, on Acoma Pueblo. I stopped and took a snapshot with my Kodak Instamatic. But the biggest thrill is always the one-on-one encounter with a wildflower in all its glory—and its mystery. More than million years of coevolution between flowers, bees, butterflies, beetles, and other pollinators has perfected blooming times, along with delivering rich pollen and nectar rewards, perfumed aromas, and intricate sexual strategies to manipulate animals to transfer pollen to other flowers so seeds can form.
Flowers may well have invented romance. With a group of fellow wildflower aficionados in the Native Plant Society, a nonprofit organization dedicated to native plant conservation, I park in a small gravel lot at the Red Canyon campground and trailhead, in the Manzanos. A swath of wildflowers borders the lot, but not like any planted by the most ardent gardener.
Strawberry hedgehog cactus Echinocereus stramineus. King cup cactus Echinocereus triglochidiatus. Nylon hedgehog cactus Echinocereus viridiflorus. Cob beehive cactus Escobaria tuberculosa. Common beehive cactus Escobaria vivipara. Texas barrel cactus Ferocactus hamatacanthus. Arizona barrel cactus Ferocactus wislizeni. Club cholla Grusonia Clavata. Devil cholla Grusonia Emoryi. Graham's club cholla Grusonia grahamii. Arizona fishhook cactus Mammillaria grahamii. Heyder pincushion cactus Mammillaria heyderi.
Pancake prickly pear Opuntia chlorotica.
0コメント