The Desert Makes No Sense (And I Mean That as a Compliment)

As a Midwestern girl, I thought I understood plants. Give them some decent soil, a little rain, and a fighting chance, and they’ll usually do just fine.

Then I moved to Arizona.

I think what amazes and intrigues me most about the desert is all the different textures and colors you would never expect to see. Before moving here, I imagined the desert as a giant stretch of tan dirt with a cactus thrown here or there for decoration, or a tumble weed blowing by with the theme song from The Good the Bad and the Ugly playing in the distance. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Everywhere I look, there are shades of green, brown, red, gold, silver, and even purple. The mountains change color throughout the day. The rocks glow orange at sunset. Tiny wildflowers appear in places where it seems impossible for anything to grow.

What really stops me in my tracks are the plants growing straight out of rock faces and hillsides. Not near the rocks. Not beside the rocks. Out of the rocks.

How?

I still haven’t figured that one out.

And then there’s the sky. It is impossibly blue and seems to go on forever. Back in the Midwest, trees often framed the horizon. Here, the landscape stretches endlessly in every direction, and the sky feels twice as big.

The heat is not forgiving. The water, well, there isn’t any.

That’s the beauty and insanity of it.

There is no water, yet life finds a way.

Every plant, animal, bird, insect, and cactus has adapted to survive in conditions that seem impossible. Some store water. Some wait patiently for rain. Some bloom for only a brief moment, putting on a spectacular show before retreating back into survival mode.

The desert doesn’t waste anything.

And maybe that’s what I admire most.

Nothing here has it easy, yet everything keeps going.

Every time I hike a trail or wander through a wash, I find myself staring at some stubborn little plant growing where it has absolutely no business growing. It’s a reminder that life is incredibly resilient.

The desert may look harsh from a distance, but the closer you look, the more alive it becomes.

It’s rugged, beautiful, unforgiving, colorful, surprising, and completely fascinating.

And even after nearly a year here, I still find myself looking around and thinking the same thing:

“How on earth is any of this alive?”

Whatever the answer is, it’s spectacular✨