In the desert

Unlike the traditional pack of cousins that arrive in sets and tumble around as kids, most of us on my dad's side of the family are separated by ten or fifteen years.  But it's never too late to play.  So last week, we fled our rain-soaked world to enjoy some playtime with my cousin Cindy who lives the leisurely post-work life in sunny Arizona.

It was marvelous to share adventures, pool time, conversation and laughs while watching the herons glide by and the hummingbirds flit around the backyard.  And the best part of the experience (besides the fun people) was getting to know the desert and watching my supposedly hike-averse kids climbing over rocks with abandon and delight, even though they later pretended they were quite bored.

I was struck by the powerful, almost haunting character of the desert.  How the stark angular mountains thrust from the earth, stand in stoic defiance of their ultimate fate of being slowly erased by the wind and weather. And how the open desert in the rocky plain below exhibits its own disconcerting type of defiance, giving the eye no real place to rest, yet demanding attention as if its taunting or daring you to even try to understand.

It's so utterly unlike the snow-covered mountains and green forests I know so well, that seem somehow more secure in their majesty and more inviting in their presence. Or perhaps that's merely familiarity I feel.

But when I stepped inside on my own two feet, the strange allure of the place began to make more sense. On that scale, I could see the fierce individualism and ingenious design that defines the desert. How the cholla with its fresh spring needles literally glowed in the noontime sun.  And the soft ocotillo buds that had not yet opened resembled menacing orange barbs protecting the delicate ends of the plants.  The low growing cactus briefly sported near-fluorescent oranges and pinks on their tips.  And the otherworldly shapes of the saguaros stood sentry over it all.

It becomes clear that each desert plant survives by both vigorously protecting  itself and creating its own special brilliance. And in doing so, fashions a place that suits the strength and solitude of the creatures who inhabit it, the rattlesnake and the lizard, of which we had the pleasure of seeing with our own two eyes.

Just as family resemblance runs deep and often harkens back to experiences and events that happened a lifetime ago or more, so it seems the character of the desert has been well molded across the ages by its own distinctive world. And what a fantastical character it is.