Cactus and Daydreams ~

It's been awhile since I've posted an adventure. But I'm so proud to share this one! I hope you enjoy it.

I arrived in the desert at dusk. Later than I had hoped.
As I drove toward the ranch, the sky looked like a painting, with colors and shades I couldn’t quite name as the sun disappeared behind the mountains. I’m not sure they were meant to be named.

The road was rough, with rocks and grading forcing me to slow to just under ten miles per hour. The last few miles felt longer than they should have. I felt lost.
I’m reminded of the welcome email:
If you think you're lost, you’re in the right place.

By the time I arrived, it was too dark to find my bearings, but when I stepped out of the car and looked up, I saw a velvet black sky speckled with millions of stars.
It didn’t feel real.
It felt like a dream.
And when I woke up the next morning, I wondered if maybe part of it had been.

The casita is simple and intentional in its design.
I made coffee and stepped outside just as the sun began to rise, spilling light slowly over the mountains as if it had nowhere else to go. As if I were the only one there to witness the day beginning.

A man was already sitting at the table in the courtyard.
I asked if I could join him.
His name was Jim. We exchanged the usual pleasantries as we both sat in awe of our surroundings. He asked what time I had arrived, and we laughed about the treacherous drive in. He said he couldn’t imagine driving it in the dark; he had been panicked enough in daylight.
Jim explained he was on the final stretch of a three-week road trip to visit family in Texas. That day, he would complete the last leg and return home to Palm Springs.
We talked about our homes, California and Kansas City, and the strange, sacred space of being on the road. He mentioned he was retired, so I asked what he retired from.
He was an actor.
Immediately, something felt familiar: his voice. And then it clicked.
He was Jim J. Bullock, Monroe from Too Close for Comfort.
I smiled and told him I recognized his voice. I shared how much I loved old sitcoms, how I find myself watching his show on MeTV. We both agreed there is something nostalgic about older shows that you can’t quite find today.
We talked a bit longer, and it felt easy. Like it mattered even if only for thirty minutes.
He excused himself to pack up and leave, missing his dog and cat and hoping to get home at a decent hour.
But something about that meeting stayed with me.
It made my heart happy.
And at that moment, I felt there was something about the desert that was asking only for my presence.  

The vastness is rich with texture. The roughness of cactus, the softness of light. The way the mountains hold mist in one direction and glow in another. It feels otherworldly, like stepping into a place that exists both here and just beyond.
Emotions show up that I don’t fully understand.
Is it because I spent so many years tucking them away, and now that I am untucked, they no longer have anywhere to hide?
Is it the awe of my surroundings?
Gratitude?
Relief?
Yet here, I don’t need to search for the answer.
That feels like a gift of this place.
There is nothing to solve.

Cactus and daydreams.
Moments that seem simple, but don’t feel small.
A visit to Mission San Xavier del Bac opened me up even more.
The stark white mission against the Azul sky was mesmerizing.
The beauty was undeniable, but it wasn’t just beauty.
History.
Sacredness.
Holy ground.
I could feel it beneath my feet.
Inside the chapel, I sat in silence, gazing up at the saints that adorned every inch of the walls and ceiling. I was transfixed.
And then, I felt something on my neck. Reaching up instinctively, I brushed it away, and it stung my finger.
Even that sting felt like part of it.
A reminder that I am still here. Still in a body. Still awake inside this moment.

Cactus and daydreams.
Lunch in a small local restaurant opens me once again.
An unexpected wave of memory. Chilaquiles
Tears fill my eyes, and in a moment of gratitude, I am able to honor what was. And hold the significance of that part of my life. 
All of it.

This desert has a way of stripping away anything non-essential.
Not forcefully.
But quietly.
Until what’s left feels… honest.

On my last morning, I carried my chair to the edge of the property before sunrise.
With the open desert stretching beyond what I can see, and the sun starting to rise, I said my daily prayers out loud.
This isn’t new for me. I do this at home.
But here, it felt different.
There were no walls to contain the words.
No ceiling to hold them down.
They just rose into the sky.
And for the first time, I felt them leave me completely.

I don’t think I realized how much I needed this time away.
I feel this place doing something in me.
There is trust here.
Time to remember.
To soften.
​
Cactus and daydreams.
Reality and memory.
Grounded and wandering
all at once.
And somewhere in the middle of it all…
I think I’m finding something.
Not clarity, exactly.
But space.
And for now…
That feels like enough.
 
Travel Notes
I thoroughly enjoyed my time in the Sonoran Desert, and if a retreat like this is calling you, I have a few things I learned along the way to share.
I stayed at Saguaro Glamp in one of their casitas. They also offer glamping sites, which looked amazing, and if you want a more immersive desert experience, I recommend exploring those options too.
The casita itself was very basic: a bed, two chairs, a coffee maker, hot plate, microwave, and refrigerator. It is fairly isolated, so you will want to bring everything you need—coffee, water, snacks, soap, and toiletries. Linens are included, but otherwise, plan ahead.
An SUV is a must. Many of the roads are rough, and a sedan would likely struggle or at the very least, scrape along the way.
I ventured out each day, but I would suggest minimizing trips in and out. The road is slow and rugged, so once you head out, plan to stay out for a while before returning.
While I was there, I visited Mission San Xavier del Bac and Saguaro National Park. There is also a desert museum nearby, along with additional state parks and mountain ranges worth exploring. Even just a drive is worth it.
But truthfully, most of my time was spent right there on the ranch, walking the trails in the early morning and evening, and sitting under a sky filled with more stars than I have ever seen, untouched by light pollution.
It was simple.
And it was amazing.
​
Here are links:
https://www.saguaroglamp.com/
https://www.nps.gov/sagu/index.htm
https://sanxaviermission.org/
https://www.desertmuseum.org/
Hacienda Azul
https://www.visittucson.org/