I know. I know. The banner. What's up with the succulents and prickly bits and bobs of cacti? You said "Happy Spring," Lexi.
Well, that's just it. For the past decade or so, spring has meant the beginning of my travel season. Travel season? Well, yeah. In my family, everything tends to crowd up once spring starts--and lasts until Christmas.
Easter. Birthdays. Mother's Day. Father's Day. More birthdays. Close on the heels comes Thanksgiving and Christmas. And through all of that, I'm on the road because I can't not be with my family. (P.S. I hibernate most of January through March, barely text message other Haughtons, and let my house sitter have his own vacation time.)
But why the cacti? Well, my family lives out west. So it's kind of a thing. Driving out to west Texas and then the trips waaaaay out west to Arizona to visit my brother and his family, there's all sorts of desert flora to mark my passage.
And isn't that what spring is, in effect? Marking the passing of time from hibernation to LIFE. (Yes, all caps.)
But as I drive a billion miles back and forth and back and forth and back and forth (I do some of my best thinking in the car, alone), those prickly bits will be just outside my window. Sometimes growing out of barren, desolate landscapes--harsh red dirt, the face of rocky cliffs--the cactus reminds me that we've got to stay thirsty for life. And that some green things can survive when everything else has given up hope.