Earlier this week, a friend called and asked if we would cactus sit. He and his wife had to move on short notice, and he wanted to know if we would watch over his precious cacti. I knew they meant a lot to him. It’s come up in previous conversations, but I didn’t know how special they were until I laid eyes on them. I was immediately smitten. The biggest one, a snow cactus, had toppled over on the short drive to our place. This didn’t surprise me at all. The ten-minute drive is anything but straight. Its ups and downs starts and stops, lefts and rights would have any passenger on the verge of toppling over or at least reaching out for the armrests.
When he carried a fuzzy white bundle up onto our deck, which had a cotton rope tied around the branches to help support it, I quickly cleared a spot near a post to lean it up against. This I learned, was a snow cactus. Then he brought out a red prickly pear with babies, two saguaro cacti, and then another prickly pear that had been sunburned and didn’t look so good. I didn’t know a cactus could get sunburned. So of course I looked it up and sure enough it is a thing. Especially when moved from indoors to outdoors in the Spring.
In case you haven’t noticed, I absolutely love cacti. My purse has a cactus on it. My favorite t-shirt had a beautiful screen-printed cactus, I finally wore it out. I also have a cactus tablecloth. I’m not sure when this cactus love started. Maybe it was in the grocery store checkout line, where I saw a cactus with a tiny paper-like red flower. In fifth grade, we went on a school field trip. I don’t remember the purpose of the field trip but I do remember that I found a tiny cactus, the kind that grows in the Colorado Rockies. I carefully carried the cactus back on the bus. After school, my sister and I walked a couple of blocks to Pete’s 66 gas station, where my mom’s pickup truck was parked for an oil change. I placed my treasure on the driver’s seat and then off we went to get a Slurpee from the 7-eleven and then up to the high school to wait until my mom was done with work. A little while later a teacher friend of my mom’s gave us a ride to Pete’s to pick up the truck.
When we got there, Pete met us at the door, with a stern look and asked who left the cactus on the seat. Yes, you know what happened, he sat on it, oops. He never forgot about that and reminded me every time I saw him, even after I graduated from high school.
I’ve always seen myself living in New Mexico someday. There’s a deep connection that I feel when I’m there. A knowing. A remembering. When that day comes, I’m thinking I’ll have my own cactus garden with a tall cholla cactus that waves to all who pass by. There’s still plenty of time for that. But today, I’m grateful that I am right where I am, and for the gift of watching over these lovely cacti for a while.