Rounding a sun beaten switchback, near the tail end of a tail-between-legs failed assault on Twin Peaks, Bobbie led me off the beaten path to a discovery she made a few days prior. These are preseason hikes; not two miles ago we were rejected by mounds of deep soft snow. But there, growing out of rock as solid as Gibraltar's, were mounds of Claret Cup cacti, blossoming like Fourth of July.
Bobbie informed me that the Claret Cup takes its name from Bordeaux, a region in France known for its red wines. How appropriate, to name a flower after wine... or vice versa, for that matter. And of all the heat stricken, bone dry inhospitable places one could imagine, Claret chose to fill her Cups in this crack-in-the-rock "home." Evidently she's quite content living there... judging from her "bouquet."
If I could take an example from my lovely anthropomorphized friend, Claret, it would be to make a better effort to "blossom" when landed in difficult situations. A little glass of Bordeaux wouldn't hurt either.
Cheers... To "hump" day.
“Security depends not so much upon how much you have, as upon how much you can do without.” The Desert Year, Joseph Krutch
|Bobbie, anticipating being on top of Twin Peaks... the two little humps on the skyline|
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