Some time ago, I awoke to find a dusting of snow covering the saguaros of the Sonoran desert where I live. I arose quickly knowing this new fallen blanket from the clouds would soon be gone. I was transfixed by all that surrounded me. The desert was seemingly transformed overnight.
As I turned to view the landscape, I noticed a stately saguaro on the crest of a hillside gleaming in the early morning sun and snow. I was struck by how the saguaro was nearly refashioned by the presence of snow on its outstretched arms. Additionally, the nearby cholla, though much shorter in stature, seemed to be plumped up and jumping for joy with the chilly refreshment all around. It was a remarkable scene for me.
To those who have lived all their lives in the desert, this scene is perhaps quite unremarkable. For me, however, being brought to the desert from far away, I was struck not only by all the beauty surrounding me but also, and I’m embarrassed to say this, by the very fact that it can snow in a desert environment. Even an environment that was a comfortable 65 degrees just twelve hours earlier. This was delightfully unexpected for me.
This surprising encounter with Mother Nature reminded me how we each awake to the new day to many unexpected experiences and opportunities.
As the snow quickly melted on the arms of the saguaro, I imagined this cactus was absorbing the winter water, quenching its January thirst, and building its inner reserves.
Similarly, I thought to myself, each one of us might be surprised by a “dusting of snow” in the desert of our experience of life but we can allow it to be, just like the saguaro, an unexpected way of growth, nourishment, and a way to build our inner “reserves” for a difficult day. Did you have a “surprise snowfall” today? What was it?
In the winter of our struggles there are many unexpected experiences offering hope and healing.These moments might include the timely meeting of an old friend at a holiday get together and hearing her share excitedly about the discovery of a new health protocol working for her. Or it might come in a more subtle way in a whispered suggestion to the ear of our hearts. The trick is to be ready or open for these unpredictable moments of awareness, don’t you think?
Remaining open often requires us to be vulnerable. The outstretched arms of the saguaro in the snow was a symbol of that openness and fragility for me. And we, like the strong old saguaro, can stand resolutely and patiently waiting with open arms to each new day whatever it might bring.
This desert snow fall, with its fleeting nature, also reminded me to enjoy life in the moment. For, like the snow in the desert, life quickly passes. This quiet pause, in the early morning, awoke my mind and heart from a bit of winter hibernation and allowed time for recollection in the frosty stillness. Life passes quickly; enjoy it!
So, these are just a few thoughts about my recent winter moment in the desert. There was quiet. There was peace. There was snow. It was all a grand surprise. And I was chilly but grateful. I look forward to my next desert surprise, however it may unfold.