Hummingbirds and roadrunners are year-round residents in my desert oasis hometown, Palm Springs, California. These adaptable creatures are designed to cope with the scorching triple digit temperatures common in summer. Despite the heat, they follow their daily routines below the towering San Jacinto mountains, where thousands of palm fronds sway under azure skies.
During winter months, however, with average temperatures in the 70s, the luxurious embrace of sunshine attracts flocks of snowbirds migrating from northern climes like the American White Pelican and Canadians. The former (feathered) group passes carefree hours floating on golf course ponds.
The latter party of heat seekers, on the other hand, engage in a wide variety of fun-in-the-sun activities. They’ll swing golf clubs or tennis racquets, bike-ride, hike, birdwatch, lounge by the pool, take tours of Hollywood stars’ homes, admire mid-century modern architecture, enjoy authentic Mexican cuisine, sip lip-smackingly tangy Margaritas on shaded terraces, cruise museums and stroll main street, Palm Canyon Drive, popping into quirky shops.
Since we haven’t visited for two years, I knew to expect changes—especially after reading an impressively info-packed article in the international edition of the New York Times, 36 Hours in Palm Springs (by Freda Moon, 11-12 January 2025.) Two of the downtown stand-outs are the long-awaited Agua Caliente Cultural Museum—with a fancy spa next door! And, after years of languishing in a distressing, semi-built phase, a large ugly duckling structure morphed into the chic Thompson Hotel.
Visting all the delightful cafes and restaurants that have recently opened presents a challenge but a gratifying one. Topping my list are the casual, deli-style La Jefa (with an inviting patio for sipping a morning espresso) and the seafood-centric Crudo Cervichería, which also has a terrace but with stunning mountain views. And a fire pit!
Reacquainting myself with the fabulous Palm Springs Art Museum—free Thursday from 5 PM—is a must. A David Hockney expo is the big draw now, and just next door stands the Luminaire House, designed by the renown architect Albert Frey. Time permitting, I hope to tour the interior, but in the meantime, I found it intruiging to observe the subtle shimmers of the metal structure at dusk.
As does the temperature with summer on the horizon. Come April, snowbirds—both feathered and Canadian—will head north and the locals will have the place to themselves to hunker down and hydrate. And double-down on the sunscreen.
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Wherever you are, dear readers, be happy, healthy, and hopeful.
Bises, Gayle
PS
Watching lively roadrunners scurry about is always a delight.
PPS
Comments on Pleasures of Provence by the literary professional have arrived! Mais oui, revisions are in order, but now I proceed with increased clarity and confidence, and for that I am over-the-moon grateful.
Gayle Smith Padgett 