Yesterday, the kids and I took a drive up to the dam at Roosevelt Lake. Turns out, it’s about 78-80 miles from home. Longer than I remembered, but an amazing drive. Aside from the intermittent fighting in the back seat. C and B were awed by the sight of the dam from below it. I got the “Wow!” from B that I was hoping for. C, a budding engineer, was busy evaluating the engineering aspects of the dam, looking for the ways in which they might release water to prevent a flood.The route to the lake is part of my weekly Thursday drive, though the last 22 miles are a diversion from my usual route to Payson. Every time I make the drive to Payson from my house, past Saguaro Lake, through the mountains, I can’t imagine moving from here. I realize I might not be able to prevent a move, but it will be really hard to leave this place. I’ve never lived anywhere that was so beautiful that it really could take one’s breath. I love that B is awed by the scenery. C is, also, but his sister is the one who seems to see it in the way I do.
As a child, I was the one who stayed awake in the backseat on long drives, while my sister and brother would often fall asleep. I never wanted to miss the view. And I still don’t.
On the way to Saguaro Lake, along the Salt River, there are some stunning rock formations called (I think) the Bulldog Cliffs. Near the top, in a crevice between two outcroppings of the cliffs, there is one saguaro cactus. High above anything that one would think might sustain it. There doesn’t seem to be anything but rock up there, or much sun most of the time. Yet it survives. In conditions that seem unfavorable, even hostile, it finds what it needs to survive and grow.
I love that. If I ever look and find that the saguaro is no longer there, I think it might break something small but significant in me.