One of the first years that I lived here in Albuquerque, when on an early evening walk, I saw a scattered bunch of white among the grasses by the roadside.
I angrily cursed the litterbugs who had left the used take-out cups, hamburger wrappers, and paper bags by the roadside.
When I got closer and could see better, however, I realized that it wasn't litter at all, but the flowers of Oenothera caespitosa. My outrage turned to delight as I admired the delicate ephemeral flowers.
I think there is a moral in this.
There are various names for this primrose, so I just refer to it by the Latin. It goes as the tufted evening primrose, the white evening primrose, the fragrant evening primrose. Whatever the name, it is a wildflower that I eagerly anticipate every year.
Oh, would it be so that all litter turned to flowers!
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