Beauty and Destruction

We took a trip to the Boyce Thompson Arboretum (BTA) 3 miles outside Superior, Arizona.  Superior is one of those sad, deserted towns in Arizona that evolved from the boom/bust, truck economy of copper mining.  

The BTA, however, is a colorful jewel in the Spring when cacti bloom...the prickly pear, 

the buckhorn cholla,

the staghorn cholla

and all the color varieties that make these cacti a beautiful Spring surprise.  

Maybe the beauty of the BTA was focused a bit because of the waste of the strip mining in the surrounding region or, maybe, just because we had an innate desire for a spectacular afternoon...and wanted to escape a little of the destruction. 

A Lonely Party

It was one of those photo trips that was all wrong.  A suggestion was made...it was easy to acquiesce...it was expedient...the landscape would be spectacular.

I had been there before...this high desert area...with the person suggesting the trip.  It was beautiful in a desolate way.  You could see forever...and see nothing at all.

Despite the companionship, it was lonely.  A few lackluster shots were taken...

Later, an "attitude" would settle in and the amorphous forms took shape...became edgy and alive, had a personality independent of surrounding unease.

Good efforts with a camera aren't passive.  You must bring something to the party...a perspective...a point of view.  It directs your eye, lets you know you when your view through the lens is what you want to capture...when to press the button.

This attitude later determines your selection of camera images...which will be retained, which deleted from memory.  After editing is over, after all the technical and mental disasters have magically disappeared, the remaining images hopefully reflect your perspective of the trip.

 

The Wisdom of Spines and Flowers

You wonder where they come from...the disparate elements of flowers and spines.

Alarmed queries often precede a visit to the desert. "Aren't you afraid of the snakes?" "What if you're pricked by a cactus?" "Are there scorpions?" All have spines...

The answer is usually a shrug because dangers are often unanticipated. In the initial stages of a journey just the flowers get our attention...and cactus flowers are among the most spectacular of their kind.

The desert is usually quiet except for the hum of bees, which have spines of their own. Flowers thrive, living in tranquility with the spines in a marked harmony of adaptation.

Cactus leaves have evolved into protective, water conserving spines...stems have  adapted as water reservoirs, and the flowers...the flowers attract their particular pollinators to ensure "appropriate" fertilization. 

 

Except for the occasional javelina or desert tortoise that grabs a bite of prickly pear, spines ensure that cactus flowers survive as the "least molested" of blossoms.

The desert, however, isn't generous to those who won't adapt to its regimen of lean necessity.  Cacti discovered long ago that only occasional water is necessary, that dry terrain and drought are a normal part of the environment, that predators are common, that excesses are rewarded with failure...and in this environment the desert hums along with its bees and flowers and spines in oft hidden tranquility.

It seems to know...if we won't adapt, if we lack an instinct for economy, we'll vanish...and the spines and flowers will look on with indifference.

The flowers will surely be here, but we may not see them.

Looking for Spring in All the Wrong Places

Occasionally it's satisfying to imagine Spring is here even before the Winter rains have come and gone. These Opuntia (Prickly Pear) cactus flowers were growing last April in Bumble Bee, Arizona, a cross-roads where mine waste fights for recognition with junk cars and discarded drug paraphernalia.

But even though a friend opined that I had been in the sun too long because of some ideas I had, you often can get around the problem (bad ideas) with a broad-brimmed hat and SPF 30+ sun screen.  Cactus flowers love the sun and we go into their world with the bees, spiders and other pollinators if we want their photos.

Sometimes one of the most useful tools we can take with us on these ventures is a monopod with an attached ball head that steadies our cameras on the rocky slopes that cacti always seem to choose for home.  Don't tell anyone, but us seniors carry these things as much to get around as anything else.

One of my favorites is the Dusky Prickly Pear (above) which some guide books call "notoriously promiscuous" for coming to the party with tinges of red...a sure sign it has allowed a wayward pollinator around its stamens and stigma...and accepted exotic pollen into its genetic arsenal.