All About Arizona - Desert Winter

Today Sun stretched out to kiss Moon,
Tenderly touching the midnight clouds
Until they blushed in purple hues.
Shy Moon faded, slipping a wan glance at her suitor.
Sensing no return embrace, Sun draped his rays
Over the shivering shoulder of a waiting mountain,
Awakening the desert

Saguaro lifts his arms to the warmth.
Javalina collectively shuffle to the shade of creosote.
Coyote dogs slunk
After a night of howling and carousing.
In single file Quail whispers
Good morning to her briskly moving brood
Under azure skies.

Sun beams, strides warm
Patiently steadfast, this steward of the day
Lingering then, yearning, reaching back
Toward twilight tendrils and tomorrow's chance
To kiss his Moon.

cindy

A Death in the Family

I hope I didn't scare anyone with the title, but this death sure hit close to home:

This giant saguaro was in our front yard when we bought our house 11 years ago and it was standing for well over 100 years in the same spot before the house was built.  It was about 35 feet tall and defined our front yard.

It was the background for Christmas cards and Easter egg hunts and the foreground for many, many pictures of rainbows and blue skies.

It is survived by its smaller twin, but it's just not the same.  It doesn't really matter what brought it down, but evidently it was an internal infection.  These giant saguaros live for hundreds of years, but when a cactus wren (think woodpecker) makes a hole in them for bird condos, it opens a wound that can never heal.  For our giant silhouette, it came down without anyone here noticing.  Kent just looked outside during the day and it was stretched out on the ground.

I know it was a plant, but it sure felt like part of our Arizona story.  RIP old friend.

cindy