The Little Palm That Could

The Little Palm

I don’t know why but I wanted to see if I could grow a palm tree from Arizona. So right before I left from my last visit with Tracy and Kelly, Kelly dug up this little sprout from their front yard. I put it in a plastic bag with the tiny root wrapped in a wet paper towel and carried it home in my purse.

It was just two fronds at the time. I didn’t hold out much hope because I had failed with growing a Saguaro cactus. Those don’t like being out of their home environs at all.  When I got home, I stuck it in this terracotta pot, located it in a sunny, south facing window and gave it a little water now and then.

As many of you know, I just moved three weeks ago and thought I would leave this little plant behind since it hadn’t shown any signs of life.

When Hannah asked me if I wasn’t going to take it with me, I just said, “Oh, put it outside, see if it survives. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t, and if it does, it does”. I was so nonchalant and careless. Hannah said, “Mom, you better take a look at it”.

I hadn’t really paid much attention to it in the last little bit. But, lo and behold! Look at this beautiful frond coming up and it’s put on height, as well!

I’ve been apologizing to it for giving up so easily. Perhaps it knew that winter would soon be over and spring was coming and it was time to come alive. I don’t know. I’ll never know.

Now every day I say, “I love you little Arizona palm. I will never give up on you again. I promise”.

Arizona is a Wonder

My trip to Arizona was amazing. Tracy and Kelly and I visited historic sites to view missions and petroglyphs. We visited mountains and canyons, the desert and rivers and creeks.

We hiked in the Madera Canyon in the Santa Rita Mountains and did a lot of birdwatching. A coati came right to the door of our cabin… not once but three times.

Deer and wild turkeys were abundant as were the afternoon thunder storms with raindrops the size of marbles. The food we ate on our travels was a cultural adventure.

Tracy drove us along the rim of Box Canyon, an adrenaline rush to be sure. Where the road was washed out and only wide enough for the truck, we laughed or held our breath as we looked into the depths of the Canyon, yelling and telling Tracy not to look but to keep her eyes on the road.

The skies in Arizona are wide and blue or black with giant storm clouds the size of mountains. The roads are strewn with washes and signs warning of flash floods and cattle wandering the open ranges.

I greet the saguaro as we pass by. They seem like old friends and maybe ancestors. I love all of the cactus that I see as we drive long, long stretches of road through the reservations and small towns and seeming nothingness except the land, the mountains and sky. But there’s something special about the saguaro that I can’t explain.

Though October is rattler explosion time, I thankfully didn’t see a one and I thankfully didn’t see not even one bear or big cat. The universe heard my cry.

We knew the elusive Red Start  was near because we could hear it’s song. We were never able to spot it until moments before we left the cabin when it hopped upon our door jamb as though to mock us and to say goodbye.

Back home we visited the Cosanti studio again where they bought me another bell. We swam in the pool and looked at the sky and read the books we bought along the way. We watched a movie or two and discussed life in general and in particular as we loved on the three old dogs and cats.

Times like this change our lives forever.