it is the desert. . .

 

. . .and it is beautiful.  I'm not sure how you all keep yourselves distracted (clearly not the types for word searches, ahem), but I could look at and wonder about how this cactus blossom finds its precise shape for a very long time.  I know there are people out there who actually understand biology and how it is that cells speak to one another, form a plan, create a finger, toe or eyelid.  I also know there are people who prefer to think that these cells were made by God.  To me, cells are divine not because something all-powerful made them, but precisely because of their humble origins--because they spontaneously, mysteriously scrapped it together, long before anyone could see them or name them or claim them.  And they made these shapes whose beauty takes my breath away:  The outrageously long eyelashes on my little boy, the perfect thumbs on my little girl, and these bright yellow blooms on these ancient cacti.