The plum-tree in the backyard was just beginning to burst forth in snow-white, sweet-smelling blooms when our family loaded up into our second home––the car––and zoomed down the interstate toward the Lone Star state.  It was a lovely time to drive, with the Chinook blowing sugary perfumes across the expanse of newly budding fields, and all the world as it passed our window showcasing the vibrancy of their new greenery.

As we neared our destination, however, the clear blue skies morphed to grey clouds, and, just as we were enjoying the warm welcome of our friendly hosts at the church, the clouds exploded in a downpour of rain.  Thanks to the large group of helpers, however, the gear was safe inside, so we were able to observe the storm from the indoor side of the walls.  Our friends at the church were very happy that we had brought the rain, though, as Texas has been experiencing a record drought, and the inhabitants were beginning to fear that they would have no green spring.  That night we had a packed house and enjoyed the comfy warmth of the stage lights as we performed, while the rain pattered ferociously against the windowpanes.

Next day we loaded up once more and drove out of the overcast skies into the desert of West Texas, where the devil walks his dog, as some say, and then on to Arizona.  All of us were stunned at the arid beauty of the landscape, where trees are replaced by tall, weird cacti, and the only color is in the flowering, low-lying shrubs.  It became warmer and warmer, and soon we were thanking God we weren’t journeying down here in July.  The sun beamed down on us all day, and finally, arriving at our destination in Tuson, we unloaded the gear and basked in the clean, dry air of Arida Zona, the original Spanish name of the territory.  We loved getting to know the many lovely people who befriended us during our time there and that night we had a great concert.  

Next day we loaded up once more and moved on to the capital, named after one of my favorite mythological birds, the phoenix.  It was certainly fiery weather there, with the heat of the sun and sand reflecting off the walls of the city.  Everything was beautiful though, and we enjoyed getting to fellowship with our very generous host and hostess and all the hard-working helpers.  After we loaded in, we drove through a sunny subdivision to the lovely home of our host and hostess, where we had some delectable food and fun conversation.  We were excited to learn that Arizona is the home not only of the mesquite tree, the taste of which all America is familiar with, but also a dog-size rat that looks like a boar and is quite fierce enough to haunt one’s dreams.  Anyone remember Princess Bride and the giant rat of the Fire Swamp?  One and the same animal.  Obviously the author of that book was familiar with the Dry Zone.  

That night we enjoyed concertizing, and then again next morning in the Sunday morning worship services.  Afterwards we loaded up our gear and were treated to a delectable lunch at an old-timey Western restaurant that took me back to John Wayne and the rustic romanticism of the old West.  We conversed about politics over plates of home-fried potatoes and truly mouth-watering jalapeño poppers, and then were entertained by true-life stories of our host’s adventures in El Salvador and the other continents (he has been to six of the seven!).  

Afterwards, satisfied with our stuffed stomachs, we began our drive home.  Two hours down the road we stopped at Tonto Rim, the camp that our host runs, and enjoyed getting to see the lovely grounds of the mountain passes while we drank some delicious hot chocolate, and then we said goodbye and began our long journey home through the desert.  

And that’s the March-in Review!