It's Just Allergies....

The gentlemen standing behind me in the cashier line at TJ Maxx is gripping a mittful of cleaning aids - a broom, a mop, several different dusters. I comment to him that he looks like he has a big job ahead of him.  That is all that's required to launch him into a tale of his battle against the dust of Palm Springs. His frustration pours out of him as he tells me of wearing out the bristles on his broom from so much sweeping, his embarrassment at telling anyone how many different allergy meds he is on, how his mother's trip here from Ireland is being ruined by her congestion due to allergic reactions to the desert dust. He grew up on a hay farm in Ireland and never suffered a day of allergies from either the hay, the other vegetation on the farm or the animals. It wasn't until he moved to the paradise of Palm Springs that he experienced the torment of seasonal allergies.  

Cactus flowers

The desert in bloom.

Due to the higher than normal rainfall in Southern California this winter the desert is in a "superbloom" year. Everything that can bloom IS blooming. Very pretty but more pollen than normal. Couple that with more wind than usual and you have a recipe for rhinitis.  Being an allergy sufferer myself and someone who has experienced the losing battle of keeping out the dust of  the desert I nod in solidarity and let him express his irritation. I understand. 

People that don't have allergies don't want to hear about yours. In fact, some of you will quit reading right now so as not to hear from us whiners.  Go on then, stop reading.  I'll wait for you to go..... ok. Many people have no patience for what is perceived as the minor problem of a runny nose in spring but to those of us that suffer there is more to the picture. Here is a direct quote from a US government website for the National Centre for Biotechnology Information. (Http//www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov):
"The rates of depression, anxiety, and sleep disturbance (suicide risk factors) are greater in patients with allergic rhinitis than in the general population." But it's just allergies, right? If you ask the average person which time of the year they think has the highest rate of suicide most people will tell you the winter, or more specifically Christmas time, the holiday season.  In actuality spring, specifically May has the highest rate of suicide across all different nations and cultures. There are many, many theories as to why that would be. It seems to run counter to what we want to agree upon anecdotally.  Winter makes us miserable, we say,  we feel lonelier at the holidays if we are alone, not enough sunlight makes us cranky.  Springtime is rebirth, longer days, warmer days, more beauty and possibility in our life, why would more people kill themselves or at least try to kill themselves then?  I have a one word answer...allergies.  See quote above. It is as good a theory as any and has had much investigation about it. Allergies make you feel crappy, they give you itchy eyes, a runny nose, a mucus clogged throat, headaches or else the dopiness that comes with the stronger antihistamines. The feeling of having a cold that never goes away. New medicines are better at keeping you alert but not as effective at keeping down the symptoms.  A constant trade off. They may also be a symptom of other chemical imbalances going on in the brain. 

They bloom everywhere! 

Pretty and pollinating

My siblings all suffer from allergies to different degrees, as do my sons, one particularly badly so I've had a lot 
discussion and trial and error about coping with allergies, both seasonal and food related. Antihistamines, cortisone nasal sprays, the traditional neti pot, vitamin supplements, acupuncture, air cleaners...they have all been tried. Canadians suffer from one of the highest rates of allergies in the world, thanks in part to our abundant supply of trees and plants but probably as well from some of our ethnic backgrounds. Light haired, light eyed people suffer more from allergies of all kinds. Thanks, Ove and Dagmar, my Scandinavian grandparents. 

As I listened to my red haired, Irish friend in the TJ Maxx line up I sympathized.  The dusty desert winds of places like Phoenix and Palm Springs are not kind to me either. The only place I have found so far where I am allergy free is Hawaii, perhaps a less obvious reason why I enjoy Hawaii so much but just as important as the sun and sand. When I'm there I can leave the house without a couple of emergency tissues in my pocket, I don't startle people with my trios of sneezes, I can sleep without waking from mucus choking me in the middle of the night. Let me tell you, that can endear you to a place! The different vegetation and the constant blowing trade winds work together to bring me relief no antihistamine can match. 
So with this in mind, when someone sneezes next to you in a line up and they rush to assure you "it's JUST allergies", instead of rolling your eyes, send them a little loving thought and tell them you hope they feel better soon. 

Vanishing Oasis

The rocky, scrub covered mountains rise almost from the centre of town and turn shades of purple and tan as the sun lowers behind them.  They act as a wall between Palm Springs and all things west of it, the desert, the freeways, Los Angeles, the ocean. The town itself is flat, flat, flat with extraordinarily tall, thin palm trees that sway in the afternoon wind like drunk super models, throwing no shade. These palms and many others that have been planted, along with the thriving bougainvillea, oleander, fruit trees and flowers are courtesy of the huge aquifers that sit under Palm Springs. Those aquifers are in danger now from the prolonged drought in California that is Mother Nature's way of reminding California of its roots....desert roots. 

I have been visiting Palm Springs and the Coachella Valley for almost thirty-three years, my first visit being on my honeymoon. It is an almost too pretty place, coloured with deeply green lawns, gardens filled with flowers, blooming vines tumbling over white painted walls. And lots of trees... citrus trees, palms of all shape and size, eucalyptus and palo verde, and even some pines. The colourful lushness of Palm Springs always made me prefer it over Scottsdale, Arizona, another spot I visited frequently, even though they had almost identical climates. The difference, of course, is all that water that the Coachella Valley was sitting on. It filled swimming pools, fed decorative waterfalls, was sprinkled on golf courses and generally made you believe you were in an oasis in the desert. You were, in fact. 

But that's all over now. California's long and persistent drought has reached into the heart of Palm Springs and is ripping out its manicured emerald lawns and replacing them with sand and gravel. I spent quite a bit of time in Palm springs this last winter and I was so dismayed to see house after house sporting gravel front yards with a few tiny desert plants dotted about. Some didn't even bother with that. Large established trees were being sawed down, replaced by small cacti.

 Many yards that had gone through lawn replacement last year were now sporting patches of grass growing through the gravel making them look unkempt and down at the heels, like old men who are past caring about their appearance, proving that even in the desert grass is hard to kill.

I know, I know, it's a necessity. The governor of California has asked residents to voluntarily cut back their water consumption and the population has responded, thanks in part to the turf buy-back program the government offered. So I get it but it doesn't mean I like it. Palm Springs is looking more and more like Scottsdale, all shades of tan and grey, baking in the sun with less and less trees. it's a strong reminder of climate change and our dependence on water. 

On one of my recent visits to Palm Springs I went into a garden centre downtown and spoke with a woman working there about the situation. She said they were booked up for months ahead with lawn replacement jobs and yet even though she benefited from the work she didn't feel it was necessarily the right answer. The lawns do not require as much water as people think and they have a cooling effect as well as contributing to an ecosystem for the bugs and the birds. But that is an artificial ecosystem and one California can longer support. Being just a visitor it is not for me to pass judgement on what the citizens do.
Through all this the mountains stand guard, unaffected by the drought, the disappearing green lawns and flowers of the desert below just a passing dream of the humans that tended them. The desert has been there all along, waiting for a comeback.