It’s January 18. The sun is shinning, but the air is cool…
Time for fucking fall in Gilbert, Arizona.
Of course, the Bear had to cut down my lovingly-planted, living Christmas trees and replace them with these cheap Chinese imports.
When we put them in, they were all the rage at the nursery. You can date property in this town. 1970s-80s, olive trees and oleander bushes. 1990s-2000s Australian Gum trees and Goldwater pines. 2010s Palo verdes and mesquites. 2017 -plus Red Chinese Pistache.
Description said deciduous– I thought that meant leaf drop in October — like a normal fucking tree.
These Chinese imports can’t read a calendar.
October was growing season with light green leaves and new buds all over the trunk. Christmas — still green. New Years? Green.
Middle of January — just when the desert starts heating up again — that’s the time “Red” comes out in Red Chinese Pistache. Kinda pretty. Wrong fucking season. Who wants to rake leaves for Valentine’s Day?
Not this fucking guy. That’s some climate change bullshit right there.
One week later. It’s sunny and 75 degrees, but that’s “winter” in Gilbert, Arizona.
Categories: Phoenix Fables