#saguaro grove

[belsasim]

Speaking of the arrival of a baby... The first trimester was pretty much a nightmare for Penny (yup, she has denounced her Landgraab name and fully embraced her cover name 'Penny Starr' now. Also, if she writes books, they will have the right author's name), with nausea, lightheadedness and extreme fatigue.

But the rest of her pregnancy went surprisingly well. They had settled into the house and she worried less about how she would give this little baby a good start in life. Jess brought her in contact with an obstetrician, who confirmed everything was going very well and she was doing a great job.

Kit, who was at first overwhelmed by the idea of having a baby as a teen (I mean, very understandable) , absolutely fell in love with his future child. He often caressed Penny's belly, talked to the baby and felt if he could feel some movement, looking up to Penny with big, happy eyes.

Of course, the bigger and heavier the baby got, the harder it became for Penny's body. She was often exhausted and her back hurt more often than not, not to mention the high frequency of toilet visits. But both of them couldn't wait to meet their daughter...

[luna-saguaro-photo]

Thinking of resurrecting this ghost photography series.

📸 @luna-saguaro-photo

[joecowtoy]

Near Queen Valley, AZ 🌵 >>> Swipe for 3D >>> #joecowphoto #sonorandesert #saguaro #grove #giant #az https://www.instagram.com/p/Cn9--aUvmE6/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[na-bird-of-the-day]

BOTD: White-winged Dove

Photo: Doug Greenberg

"Related to the Mourning Dove, but a larger and bulkier bird, the White-wing is mainly a summer resident in the southwestern states. It is abundant in some regions, and streamside groves or desert washes may echo with the crowing calls of males on spring mornings. In some desert areas, this dove often feeds on the fruits of cactus, and visits their flowers for nectar; it is an important pollinator of the giant saguaro cactus."

- Audubon Field Guide

[ceeturnalia]

In Colorado My Father Scoured and Stacked Dishes

in a Tex-Mex restaurant. His co-workers, unable to utter his name, renamed him Jalapeño.

If I ask for a goldfish, he spits a glob of phlegm into a jar of water. The silver letters

on his black belt spell Sangrón. Once, borracho, at dinner, he said: Jesus wasn’t a snowman.

Arriba Durango. Arriba Orizaba. Packed into a car trunk, he was smuggled into the States.

Frijolero. Greaser. In Tucson he branded cattle. He slept in a stable. The horse blankets

oddly fragrant: wood smoke, lilac. He’s an illegal. I’m an Illegal-American. Once, in a grove

of saguaro, at dusk, I slept next to him. I woke with his thumb in my mouth. ¿No qué no

tronabas, pistolita? He learned English by listening to the radio. The first four words

he memorized: In God We Trust. The fifth: Percolate. Again and again I borrow his clothes.

He calls me Scarecrow. In Oregon he picked apples. Braeburn. Jonagold. Cameo. Nightly,

to entertain his cuates, around a campfire, he strummed a guitarra, sang corridos. Arriba

Durango. Arriba Orizaba. Packed into a car trunk, he was smuggled into the States.

Greaser. Beaner. Once, borracho, at breakfast, he said: The heart can only be broken

once, like a window. ¡No mames! His favorite belt buckle: an águila perched on a nopal.

If he laughs out loud, his hands tremble. Bugs Bunny wants to deport him. César Chávez

wants to deport him. When I walk through the desert, I wear his shirt. The gaze of the moon

stitches the buttons of his shirt to my skin. The snake hisses. The snake is torn.

— Eduardo C. Corral

[ukdamo]

In Colorado My Father Scoured and Stacked Dishes

Eduardo C Corral

in a Tex-Mex restaurant. His co-workers, unable to utter his name, renamed him Jalapeño.

If I ask for a goldfish, he spits a glob of phlegm into a jar of water. The silver letters

on his black belt spell Sangrón. Once, borracho, at dinner, he said: Jesus wasn’t a snowman.

Arriba Durango. Arriba Orizaba. Packed into a car trunk, he was smuggled into the States.

Frijolero. Greaser. In Tucson he branded cattle. He slept in a stable. The horse blankets

oddly fragrant: wood smoke, lilac. He’s an illegal. I’m an Illegal-American. Once, in a grove

of saguaro, at dusk, I slept next to him. I woke with his thumb in my mouth. ¿No qué no

tronabas, pistolita? He learned English by listening to the radio. The first four words

he memorized: In God We Trust. The fifth: Percolate. Again and again I borrow his clothes.

He calls me Scarecrow. In Oregon he picked apples. Braeburn. Jonagold. Cameo. Nightly,

to entertain his cuates, around a campfire, he strummed a guitarra, sang corridos. Arriba

Durango. Arriba Orizaba. Packed into a car trunk, he was smuggled into the States.

Greaser. Beaner. Once, borracho, at breakfast, he said: The heart can only be broken

once, like a window. ¡No mames! His favourite belt buckle: an águila perched on a nopal.

If he laughs out loud, his hands tremble. Bugs Bunny wants to deport him. César Chávez

wants to deport him. When I walk through the desert, I wear his shirt. The gaze of the moon

stitches the buttons of his shirt to my skin. The snake hisses. The snake is torn.

[untitledgoosegay]

Deserts feed forests, true, but they are also carbon sinks in their own ways! Ways that are as yet poorly-understood -- but we know that, for example, the roots of mesquite trees can penetrate hundreds of feet deep in search of water. In doing so, they transport carbon deep underground, where it reacts with calcium to form caliche, deposits of calcium carbonate. In this mineral form it can remain buried practically indefinitely -- in contrast to the biological carbon sinks of forests, which cycle carbon back into the atmosphere on a much shorter (though still long) time-frame. When desert plants convert atmospheric carbon into sugars, that carbon too is buried in dense reserves among the symbiotic fungal networks of their roots; this glomalin, while not unique to deserts, stores a full third of the world's soil carbon

But --

Why must deserts serve forests to be worthwhile?

Why must deserts be carbon sinks at all to be valued?

Deserts are beautiful, rich and unique ecosystems, with communities and histories all their own

The fact that they appear sparse, that -- in technical terms -- they have a lower density of biomass than other habitats, does not mean that they are empty of life. The plants and animals of the world's deserts are hardy, clever, and resilient; like tundra and mountains, their communities grow slowly, with many plants growing only fractions of an inch per year, for thousands of years -- damage is catastrophic. Others, and many animals, flourish in the rare moments when water is plenty, erupting into a frenzy of life and activity before retreating to dormancy

Without the camel, or the sidewinder snake, or the hairy scorpion; the African lungfish, and the constellated diversity of Tanganyika cichlids; without the saguaro or the Joshua tree or strange, ancient Welsitschia; the Syntrichia moss that draws water directly from the air; the dense, bulbous Ilareta shrub --

Without the painted mountains of Peru; without the stone forests of Tsingy de Bemahara; without the singing sands of the Namib, and Gobi, and Taklamakan; the high salt flats of the Atacama where flamingoes raise their young --

Our world would be so much poorer.

Over the millennia of human existence countless peoples have made their homes with deserts. On every continent save Antarctica, human cultures and histories have molded & been molded by desert homes; have lived with them, and loved them, and managed them, and been part of them

The camel, llama, and alpaca; the lion, crocodile, and and sacred vulture; even our beloved housecats -- we owe them all to deserts

The pigeon! Our everyday, ubiquitous Columba livia! Heroes of world wars, foundational to the theory of evolution, prized friends and companions (and, yes, livestock) to humanity for five thousand years! Whose ability to find home across hundreds of miles originated (we believe) to bring them back to their cliffside roosts after foraging faraway sources of food and water across the Mediterranean deserts of their origin!

The Nazca lines survive only because their desert environment is dry enough to preserve them; the Pueblo peoples carved homes into cliff faces; Uluru (map by Tony Tjamiwa) is sacred to the Pitjantjatjara people

And the thoughtless colonial erasure -- "greening" -- of these deserts is the genocide of their peoples, packaged as environmentalism, appealing to Euro-centric aesthetics and ideals of "nature." The label of "wasteland" is historically inextricable from genocide -- literally, labelling a land and the people who live there "waste" to discard and obliterate

We see this today in Palestine, where olive groves are razed for pine forests planted over the ruins of Palestinian towns whose people were slaughtered and exiled in the founding of the state of Israel, to hide that they were ever there, that any atrocity was committed -- an ongoing genocide that has continued for some 70 years, a proud slogan upheld by the Israeli occupation! "Making the Desert Bloom" ... in a manner economically productive for European industrial agriculture, fertile on the bodies of Palestine's people, on the eradication of the "empty" "wasteland" the first Zionist settlers "found"

Whether deserts serve as carbon sinks; how they compare as carbon sinks to other habitats; whether they feed forests -- all of these questions are important, true, but none of them matter as to whether deserts are worthwhile. Whether deserts get to exist.

Deserts get to exist because they are alive, and dynamic, and historied. Deserts get to exist because they have been homes for people and cultures since time immemorial. Deserts get to exist because each of them is unique, and to lose any of them would be a tragic, irreparable atrocity

[thanks to @rainbowobsidianbutterfly for talking over thoughts + providing examples]

[manwalksintobar]

In Colorado My Father Scoured and Stacked Dishes // Eduardo C. Corral

in a Tex-Mex restaurant. His co-workers, unable to utter his name, renamed him Jalapeño. If I ask for a goldfish, he spits a glob of phlegm into a jar of water. The silver letters on his black belt spell Sangrón. Once, borracho, at dinner, he said: Jesus wasn’t a snowman. Arriba Durango. Arriba Orizaba. Packed into a car trunk, he was smuggled into the States. Frijolero. Greaser. In Tucson he branded cattle. He slept in a stable. The horse blankets oddly fragrant: wood smoke, lilac. He’s an illegal. I’m an Illegal-American. Once, in a grove of saguaro, at dusk, I slept next to him. I woke with his thumb in my mouth. ¿No qué no tronabas, pistolita? He learned English by listening to the radio. The first four words he memorized: In God We Trust. The fifth: Percolate. Again and again I borrow his clothes. He calls me Scarecrow. In Oregon he picked apples. Braeburn. Jonagold. Cameo. Nightly, to entertain his cuates, around a campfire, he strummed a guitarra, sang corridos. Arriba Durango. Arriba Orizaba. Packed into a car trunk, he was smuggled into the States. Greaser. Beaner. Once, borracho, at breakfast, he said: The heart can only be broken once, like a window. ¡No mames! His favorite belt buckle: an águila perched on a nopal. If he laughs out loud, his hands tremble. Bugs Bunny wants to deport him. César Chávez wants to deport him. When I walk through the desert, I wear his shirt. The gaze of the moon stitches the buttons of his shirt to my skin. The snake hisses. The snake is torn.

[musicman9987]

Soothing Piano Music for Working – Saguaro Grove

[fatehbaz]

Ancient populations of silverleaf oak, saguaro, and sweet acacia inhabit the Atascosa Highlands with no sense that the land around them is divided between the US and Mexico. But as the border wall imposes a hard boundary, this island of biodiversity in the Sonoran Desert faces an increasingly fragmented future. [...] In May 2020, it was announced that a contract had been awarded for forty-two miles of border wall to be built straight across the imposing topography of the Highlands, and construction began soon thereafter. At $30 million per mile, this steel barrier through the Atascosas amounts to one of the most expensive fences in world history, cutting through one of the most ecologically rich regions on the planet. [...]

The silverleaf oak (Quercus hypoleucoides) inhabits the rugged mountains at the margins of the United States and Mexico. [...] [S]ilverleaf oak is typically found at higher elevations in shady woodlands. Near the border, deep in the Atascosa Highlands, stands a small, isolated grove, a holdover from a bygone epoch when a cooler, wetter climate encouraged these oaks to spread out and cover the nearby hills; but as the climate has warmed and dried, the hillsides have converted mostly to savannahs of grass and hardy mesquite trees.

The presence of this species on a north-facing slope surrounded by the rolling grassland of the Atascosa Highlands gives us a window into the ecological history of the US-Mexico boundary, before the first borders were drawn on maps of North America. The Atascosa Highlands link the subtropical Sierra Madre Occidental of Mexico with the temperate Rockies that cut south from Canada, placing them at the ecological crossroads of North America. Peaks in this region are often referred to as “Sky Islands” because of the way they rise from low, inhospitable basins and act as migratory stopovers for species passing between the Sonoran and Chihuahuan Deserts. [...] For thousands of years, these oaks maintained a fluctuating and sometimes troubled equilibrium as ice sheets receded, temperatures rose, and new species were introduced to the landscape; despite these challenges they persisted. [...]

Historically, in a pattern repeated over centuries, small fires have swept the grasslands of the Atascosas approximately once a decade. These burns could be caused by lighting, or by the diligent landscape management of Indigenous peoples such as the Tohono O’odham, who still call this region home. It was these fires which kept woody shrubs from taking over the range, maintaining an unbroken sea of grass brimming with life. In the 1800s these verdant plains drew Mexican and American homesteaders, and with the settlers came cows. At first, the cattle thrived on luxurious and seemingly infinite grass [...]. When drought hit in the 1890s and the ranching bubble popped, an estimated 50–75 percent of cattle in southern Arizona died or had to be shipped out of state. The cows stripped every bit of vegetation they could reach in an effort to survive, and grasslands that had been maintained for generations turned into sparsely vegetated wastelands. The effects of overgrazing were still evident in the 1930s as the Great Depression and the Dust Bowl gripped the West. [...] Range managers were failing to stem the downward spiral of these ecosystems despite their efforts to restore native species, so they began experimenting with the idea of introducing exotic plants [...]. Like a wildfire, the spread begins with a spark and grows in fits and starts; there are few better representatives of this pattern than Lehmann lovegrass. This much maligned species, which originated in the Kalahari Desert, was initially introduced to the US from South Africa in 1932 [...]. At one point these plants were viewed as the salvation of Arizona’s grasslands; now they are perceived to be one of the biggest threats to the continuation of its native ecosystems. Each year millions of dollars are spent to eradicate species that only decades ago cost millions of dollars to introduce. Lehmann lovegrass has tied itself to humanity, using roads cut across the landscape to radiate outward. This species has even formed a strange symbiosis with border militarization. Everywhere that the border wall and its accompanying roads are built, lovegrass moves in, blown by the wind, hitched to cattle, or stowed away on the tires of construction vehicles. 

In 1946, renowned botanist Leslie Goodding described Sycamore Canyon as “a hidden botanical garden.” Draining the waters of the Highlands south into Mexico, Sycamore Canyon is a prime demonstration of the ways in which ecological continuity defies rigid political boundaries. In this place, stout alpine wildflowers mingle with decadent shrubs from the sultry tropics in the dappled light of the canyon bottom. Birdsong echoes between imposing rhyolitic spires. Painted redstarts (Myioborus pictus) flit over pools lined with ferns and columbine (Aquilegia chrysantha), while overhead turkey vultures (Cathartes aura) wheel lazily above ocotillo (Fouquieria splendens) and juniper (Juniperus arizonica).

The entrance to the canyon is marked by a massive oak (Quercus emoryi) and walnut (Juglans major), their bases fused together, embraced in a complex relationship of shared mycorrhizal networks and antagonistic allelopathy: even as they share resources below the soil, the roots of these trees exude chemicals that keep the growth of other species around them in check. They can at once provide mutual aid and staunchly defend their territory -- plants, like humans, have a complex nature. Beyond this point the canyon walls close in and create microclimates that bring disparate biogeographic regions into contact with one another in a startling display of ecological diversity.

On a shaded canyon edge, a honey-like fragrance divulges the presence of sweet acacia (Vachellia farnesiana). This species is rare in southern Arizona, known to inhabit only a handful of localities, and it has not been reported in this canyon since 1937. Beyond the acacia, as the elevation steadily drops, a glance up through the canopy of sycamore (Platanus wrightii) reveals saguaros (Carnegiea gigantea) on the hillsides -- a strange juxtaposition. [...]

Of all the species found in southern Arizona, there’s none more iconic than the saguaro. These are the largest cacti in the United States, reaching heights of forty feet, which makes them the tallest trees in many parts of the Sonoran Desert. They have a force of personality that links whole food webs around them: their flowers, fruit, and seeds serve as essential sources of moisture and nutrients, which are generously offered even in the driest years. [...]

For the last ten thousand years, saguaros have been moving in an opposite pattern from silverleaf oak. As the climate has gradually warmed, their range has been expanding northward and into higher elevations -- movements that have been closely observed by the Tohono O’odham people over the course of millennia.

“In our way of thinking, the Saguaro is a person,” said Tohono O’odham Elder Joe Giff, when asked about the plant. [...]

These ancient cacti at the border, their arms raised to the sky in supplication, have witnessed the concept of a border taking shape, and many have fallen victim to this culture which will build a straight road at any cost, even in this remote canyon where the geology, topography, and ecology all seem to invalidate the notion of a solid boundary.

-------

Graphics, images, captions, and all text published by: Jack Dash and Luke Swanson. “Atascosa Borderlands.” Emergence Magazine. 23 September 2021.

[phytophiliac]

Saguaro (Carnegiea gigantea) grove near Tucson Arizona.

[belsasim]

Moving in was as easy as checking out of the motel, grabbing their backpacks and walking over to the house. It felt a little surreal.

Penelope (looking around, a smile on her face): "Our own place. Weird isn't it?" Kit (nodded in agreement): "Everything's been weird." Penelope (moving closer to him and giving him a hug): "Not everything, Kit. Thank you. I..." (letting out a sigh) "I really don't know how I would've done this without you." Kit (placing a soft kiss behind her ear): "You would've done great, I'm sure. But I would never forgive myself for letting you go and be all alone through this." Penelope (hugging him a little bit tighter): "I'm really happy you're here with me."

Suddenly, Kit ended the hug, looking at her with a serious expression on his face. Penelope noticed him putting his hand in his back pocket, feeling for something and then taking something small out of his pocket. He held his hand behind his back though.

"Pen, I've been thinking." Trying to break the sudden serious vibe, Penelope giggled: "Hope you didn't hurt brain." Kit gave her a polite chuckle, but didn't really seem to get or care for her little joke.

"We can't hide forever. And once the baby is born, your family won't be able to force you into abortion, but they still can try to take the baby away or you or I don't know. And I hate the thought of losing you or our child..." Penelope saw Kit's eyes tearing up and bit her lip. She didn't want to think about those possibilities either.

"So, I thought, maybe, when we're of age and if you want to... ehm... we can make it a little harder for them to take you and/or Baby away... by... ehm..." He slowly brought his hidden hand forwards, revealing a shiny little ring. Penelope looked at the ring and then at Kit, unable to utter a word, but nodding. She looked on as Kit, with trembling hands, gently took her hand and slid the ring on her finger.

He looked at her apologetically: "I borrowed it from Dylan. So we'll eventually have to give this one back to him. But, well... As soon as you aged up... we can go to the courthouse." He dropped his gaze. "I hope by that time, my family can come too, maybe. But even if it's just us..."

Penelope touched his cheek, gently making him look up again, look her in the eye. "I love you, Kit, and I'l happily marry you as soon as we can."

[thorsenmark]

A Rugged Hillside of Rocks, Boulders and Saguaro Cactus (Black & White) by Mark Stevens Via Flickr: A view looking to the south while enjoying a ride in Sabino Canyon. What I wanted to capture with this setting wasn't just the view looking up the mountainside of Blackett's Ridge but also the varied and rugged landscape with the scattered saguaro cactus. I later converted to black and white with Silver Efex Pro 2, using a "Path to Follow" recipe. With some adjustments of color filters, I found the image had a rich tonal contrast brought out from the hues of colors along with tints and tones from the sunlight and shadowed areas. For the image itself and ride...wonderful and definitely worth the hour or so of the ride! Next time, I'll come when it's cooler and enjoy a walk and stroll and allow more time for soaking in the views of the mountains, hillsides and desert landscape all around.

[peacemaker-ic]

Welcome To StrangerVille: Residential and Community Lot Dump

I love StrangerVille. I love the desert landscape, the cacti, the rock formations and the neighbourhood story. Most of all I felt this world gave such a different vibe from anywhere else i didn't feel confined to building the same sorts of lots. That freedom really can spark the imagination and I went about building new lots for how I envision the world. That resulted in 2 community lots (you can't make over the lab unfortunately), and 10 residential lots with the Old Penelope and the 2 versions of the trailer park lot being furnished with the remainder being shells for you to decorate. The Gothic style items were so lovely to work with, and I will definitely be looking at expanding those at a later date.

Outback Olly's

The home features:

price: $96,338

Bar

20x20 lot size

check image for required packs

Required Custom Content:

Not Quite The Parapet Addons

C+D Buildmode Addons

Derelict Delights

Rustic Planks (large)

Plasticbox Liberated Garden Stuff

StrangerVille Information Centre

The home features:

price: $ 134,658

Library

20x20 lot size

check image for required packs

Required Custom Content:

Not Quite The Parapet Addons

Bay 42

The home features:

price: $ 20,883

1 bedrooms

1 bathrooms

Furnished

20x15 lot size

check image for required packs

Required Custom Content:

none

Bay 42 Deluxe

The home features:

price: $34,597

1 bedrooms

1 bathrooms

Furnished

20x15 lot size

check image for required packs

Required Custom Content:

Unlocked StrangerVille World Objects

Old Penelope

The home features:

price: $153,247

2 bedrooms

2 bathrooms

Furnished

50x40 lot size

check image for required packs

Required Custom Content:

Rustic Planks (small)

Buckhorn House

The home features:

price: $45,312

3 bedrooms

2 bathrooms

Unfurnished

30x20 lot size

check image for required packs

Required Custom Content:

none

Saguaro Grove

The home features:

price: $47,354

3 bedrooms

2 bathrooms

Unfurnished

30x20 lot size

check image for required packs

Required Custom Content:

C+D Siding Recolours

Barbary Outlook

The home features:

price: $75,469

5 bedrooms

3 bathrooms

Unfurnished

40x30 lot size

check image for required packs

Required Custom Content:

none

Whipple Place

The home features:

price: $34,177

3 bedrooms

1 bathrooms

Unfurnished

30x20 lot size

check image for required packs

Required Custom Content:

Simple Siding

Parenthood Window Addons

Cereus Plateau

The home features:

price: $48,927

4  bedrooms

3 bathrooms

Unfurnished

40x30 lot size

check image for required packs

Required Custom Content:

none

Sisal Overlook

The home features:

price: $ 33,058

3 bedrooms

2 bathrooms

Unfurnished

30x20 lot size

check image for required packs

Required Custom Content:

none

Chaparral Point

The home features:

price: $30,993

4 bedrooms

2 bathrooms

Unfurnished

30x20 lot size

check image for required packs

Required Custom Content:

C+D Siding Recolours

Recommended Custom Content

I use default replacements and unlocks, as they add new, pre-existing items to the game that we previously did not have access to, or made items more usable. These aren't needed but they come highly recommended.

Unlocked Plants By plasticbox (link to MTS garden centre uploads, just grab everything LOL)

Unlocked GT objects

Clutter Everywhere

Fran89 Unlocked Outdoor Retreat Plants

C+D Unlocked World Objects by BrazenLotus

Unlocked Vampire Pack Plants

Unlocked StrangerVille World Objects

You can find the house on the gallery under my origin ID: peacemaker_ic. Be sure to turn on "custom content" filtering in advanced options.

Alternately, you can download below. To install, extract the archive using WINZip/WinRAR/7Zip/Unarchiver and place the contents into your Tray folder in \Documents\Electronic Arts\The Sims 4\Tray.. If you are having issues check out my Installing Content help page.

Download: SimFileShare | Google Drive

My content will always be free, but if you are so inclined and able, you can show your support and buy me a coffee

[itsadragonaesthetic]

This reminds me of a story I heard of a useless tree. An old and gnarled oak whose bark is filled with many cracks and knots and it's branches reach far enough to shade an entire army. A person walking though the forest looking for wood says "what a useless tree!"

From what I remember, the tree comes to the guy in a dream and basically says "you're definition of usefulness is dumb. My 'uselessness' is the reason I've grown so huge and why I've lived so long!"

I really like that story because it reminds me of saguaros. I can't imagine living here in the Sonoran desert without the saguaros as they are now. Few people who aren't from here know this, but it takes at least 70-100 years for a saguaro to begin to grow its first arm. I own a baby saguaro that sits in my window, and I may never live to see it grow arms.

Many of the trees here are unfit to use for any purpose because despite being pest resistant, they melt away from fungus when they're dead, and the wood shrinks after a few years. Saguaros have woody skeletons inside of them, but the best use you're gonna get out of them for colonizing and settling is fence stays for cattle fences.

There are many places here that have been seldom touched by colonizers. Even then, the natural state of things isn't often exploited due to being "useless". We also have protections for saguaros. Unless this is impossible for any reason, all saguaros that are dug up for land must be sent to a nursery. It's a crime to kill them, especially mature ones.

I always look at saguaros just outside my house that look like they're 15+ feet tall with 8+ arms and 3+ holes from woodpeckers and I endlessly wonder what they've seen. Sometimes I'll see a field on the side of the highway full of teenage saguaros who are just a couple of decades away from their first arm and I wonder what happened to their parents. I've been to little groves where the trees were so enormous that they could shade the entire creek. Totally untouched because a single pioneer family owned this land in the middle of nowhere when it was first settled and found it too pretty to let their cattle destroy it. Now it sits inaccessible to the public as protected property of the county.

Idk I love the American west because in some little nooks and fields, it's been truly untamed because of its uselessness. Or even better, some white settling families saw that beauty and decided to leave it alone. It really makes me have faith.

[leitmotif-gold]

Day 5: Tucson

I dream about the desert. I’m riding on fine white dirt, a golden fox-dog padding beside me, Joshua trees and prickly pears and saguaros. I pass sprawls of aloe vera eight feet high, lethal and ready to give life. The grandfather teacher waits inside of me, a small still cactus, gentle and waiting. My fingers are covered in alkaline dust.

Five years ago, I had a vision of a single giant sequoia, hundreds of years old, waiting for me in the middle of a vast golden field. I wanted verdancy, deep moisture, mountains, oceans. And I moved to California.

Now, as much as I love the wisdom of the redwood groves, I feel like my time with them is almost over. I see the desert in my mind every day. I love the severity of it: the heat, the baking sun, versatile animals, a vivid yearning for rain. The savoring of every essential that keeps us alive. The impossibility of spending time on anything but finding ways to live and thrive.