Column: Thoughts from the Tractor Seat - When the Desert Blooms

Some of my earliest friendships were with kids who traveled each year to pick alongside their parents. We’d race through the orchard rows after chores, share snacks, and swap stories in Spanglish long before I even realized what that was. Their families were, and still are, essential to this place. They bring the hands that harvest and the heart that keeps the tradition going.