THE DESERT AND THE ROSE 25 



from south or east frequently annoys, rain or snow 

 drape the mountains and sometimes descend on the 

 valleys. The typical winter of this section is dry 

 and sunny: or if not, whv the presence of health- 

 seekers and tourists? December may be cold 

 enough to freeze water in open vessels nights — 

 outdoors, that" is — and occasionally waterpipes. 

 Nevertheless robust visitors from sterner climes 

 laugh at well wrapped residents, and are inclined to 

 parade in the sunshine without overcoats. Every 

 travelled person, however, knows that to lay down 

 the law about any climate is nothing but a tempting 

 of the high gods, who disarrange weather schedules 

 to suit themselves. Dare to make an assertion, and 

 ■promptly the weather gods slap you in the face. 

 February is the one exception: it is pretty safe to 

 assert that it is shifty and unreliable. And the birds 

 may be counted on. The yellow breasted, fat lark 

 we have alwavs with us, whistling optimistically 

 every day : and now brilliant blue patches appear on 

 bare boughs, on fence posts, or attached — bunches 

 of them — to pump or faucet, and the full water pail 

 is encircled with a sapphire ring; and anyone who 

 ever notices anything exclaims: "The bluebirds 

 are back! Soon we shall have Spring!" Glossy 

 blackbirds too, handsome fellows flashing with 

 scarlet or orange, swoop down upon the winter 

 wheat, screaming about irrigation being delayed, 

 and brown woodpeckers, also touched up with scar- 

 let or orange, are quarrelsome and restless, and 

 somewhat unintelligent, as it seems to a mere human 

 person. Why, for instance, do they drum on the 



