Tucson was our next destination.
I had yet to see any real cacti. You know the kind. The ones with the big arms that are always in silhouette against a pink and purple Arizona sunset. They'd been all over billboards since Texas. But Texas doesn't have any.
Neither does New Mexico.
I saw my first one along the road and literally jumped out of my seat as the bus bumbled down the road.
"Saguaro!!! I see one! There it is!!!"
Jonah ran to the front of the bus to peer through my window.
"I see it, Mom! I see one too!"
Michael chuckled to himself. We were in some of his childhood stomping grounds and this was nothing new to him.
Ten minutes later I was looking out on a forest of Saguaros. Thousands of them all up and down the roadside and all up and down the mountains - like trees without leaves - arms and legs stretching skyward. Dancers frozen in time. I squealed with delight. Yes... me. I squealed.
Tonight we would sleep in Saguaro National Park.
I insisted we park the bus next to one.
And we did.
And it was good.