It's Also The Orange Season

The yellows seem to contain more allergens than the reds, although that might be because there are so many more of them.  But the reds and oranges certainly hold their own.  Take a look.  

These aloe have been sending out new shoots for 15 years.  They exist on no supplemental irrigation.  And my new next door neighbor was thrilled beyond thrilled when I introduced her to the healing properties of applying the fleshy leaves' inner goo to a fresh burn.  Blooming doesn't seem to affect their medicinal value, and the hummingbirds consider it their own personal juice bar.

The red yucca are rescues from Amphi Middle School's front yard renovation.  The animals feed on the spiky leaves, but this year one brave stem arose from the devasation.

The ocotillo are the showiest of the oranges.  I've circled the flowers which appear, along with the green leaves, when there's enough moisture in the ground and the air.  Otherwise, they look like dead twigs.

Those are the desert plants, those which need no supplemental irrigation now that they are established.  Inside the courtyard, there's a rose bush in need of more water than he's getting.

Around back, it's another story entirely.  With a now/finally/with the grandkids' help/carefully curated irrigation schedule in place.  the containers and the roses in the ground are thriving.

This is the end of the bearded iris bulbs.  There are more ready to sprout.

It's fun to have a place for annuals.  The two bottom pots were a new addition last winter, when I must have planted a sunflower seed because that's what's popping up out of the purple and white verbena..

Snapdragon seeds apparently do very well in the desert.  Their flowers are obscuring the rescue plants which share The Container Where Failures Go For One Last Chance.

I see this rose every time I step out of my shower, or grab a towel or a bandaid or a bottle of shampoo from the cabinet in that same nook.

This year, I noticed an interloper.

Yes, that red rose is growing out of the root stock, below the graft but not giving in to its fate.

I think there's a lesson there, but I'm not that interested in figuring it out.