The image above is of what’s called a crested or cristate saguaro in Sabino Canyon, on the east side of Tucson. There are a number of crested saguaros in the greater Tucson area and surrounding Sonoran Desert. There is also a lot of speculation around what causes this dramatic change in their standard columnar shape.
I’ve been pondering the crested saguaro in conjunction with what I wrote about last week: that change is inevitable, but adaptation is optional. Whether cresting is due to genetic mutation, a virus, or environmental damage, I would bet that climate change is a factor. The Sonoran Desert has gotten hotter and drier, and many plants are struggling to adapt.
Is it possible that this cresting is some form of adaptation to hotter and drier weather? I would imagine that the crested area, being bunched together as it is, would lose less water to evaporation than the several separated arms that a saguaro more naturally grows. I’m not a scientist, so I speak with no authority, but I notice, and I wonder.
Adaptations take many forms. Here in the desert, many plants grow deep roots to tap underground water sources. Thick, waxy coatings on cactus flesh and tree leaves prevent water loss. The long, sharp leaves of yucca and agave plants help capture and funnel precious moisture to the heart of the plant. It’s possible that saguaro cresting is another adaptation that we’re watching unfold “in real time.”
Of course, adaptations are not always enough. If the climate changes too quickly, saguaros might not be able to adapt rapidly enough. That would be a shame, because their range is already limited to the Sonoran Desert. They can’t thrive anywhere else. (We did have a young saguaro cactus in a pot in our home in Massachusetts for many years, but it couldn’t have lived outdoors and didn’t really thrive until we moved to Tucson and planted it in our yard.)
Saguaros are an iconic image in southern Arizona, but they may not always be here or look like they do now. I wonder what the future holds, for them and for us.
What do you wonder?
Charles Bowden is just one of many observers who have watched Arizonans build and pave despite the warnings that water is disappearing and the thermometer is climbing. We, like the ancient people who ran out of the wild game to hunt and rain enough to water their corn, will abandon our buildings, our temples, our museums. We search for a poet to sing of this tragedy of blind greed. Surely that poet will contemplate the crested saguaro.
Thank you, Tom, for this poetic appraisal of our situation. I hadn’t considered the connections with ancestors so ancient in this desert land. It is indeed an unfolding tragedy.
Peace,
Shirin
How interesting that Tom spoke of the ancients, the Anasazi, who had to abandon their homes because of the climate conditions! I would like to add to that. I was standing on a small hill at Case Park on the far eastside of Tucson several years ago, looking at the surrounding houses and trees. Suddenly, I saw in my mind’s eye dying trees and abandoned homes. Is history going to repeat itself? Or will we, individually and collectively, change our ways before that vision becomes a reality?
You raise a powerful and poignant question, Aston. History certainly seems to rhyme! Thanks for sharing your vision and concerns.
Peace,
Shirin