During my recent trip to Big Bend National Park, I found myself curiously attracted to a plant called “ocotillo.” At first, as we approached the park from the lower desert, the plant looked dead, its long, dry, spiny limbs reaching to the sky as if clawing for rain in its final hours.
Then, as we approached the mountain desert, I began to see blooms at the tips, and realized the plants were not dead at all, only dormant. After taking dozens of pictures, I realized why I was attracted to them. They reminded me of people I have known, as well as certain times in my life.
It reminded me to be patient and wait for the blooms.