The Wisdom of the Saguaro

Astronaut Alice: The Wisdom of the Saguaro

Astronaut Alice stood before a towering saguaro, its arms stretched toward the sky as if catching whispers from the wind. The desert wrapped around her, vast and golden, humming with silence.

“How do you do it?” she asked. “How do you stand so tall in a place like this?”

The saguaro did not answer. It simply stood, as it always had.

Alice reached out, running her gloved fingers over its ridged skin. It was thick, waxy, holding onto every drop of rain the desert had ever given it. It did not waste what sustained it.

She knelt at its base, pressing her hand into the dry earth. Though she could not see them, she knew its roots stretched wide, gathering water from the smallest of gifts. And deep below, a single taproot anchored it, steadying it through every storm, every drought, every scorching summer.

Alice sighed. “I’ve been chasing answers,” she murmured. “Rushing forward, hoping I’ll know what to do when I get there.”

The saguaro stood, silent and certain. It did not rush. It did not worry if it was enough. It simply grew—slowly, patiently, letting time take care of the rest.

Alice straightened, pressing her boots into the earth. She knew she could stand tall, holding on to the truth that was deeply rooted in her. And yet, reaching out to discover what new nourishment might be found.

She exhaled, letting the quiet settle in her chest.

For the first time in a long while, she wasn’t in a hurry.

36”x48” Heavy Body Acrylic Painting on Gallery Canvas.

Frame not included. Shipping included.