This is another side of saguaro generosity, equal to that of the dead cactus, but the one I’m most attracted to. Although I’m not a pollinator, the blooming saguaro has a hold even on the poor hominid senses.

I stood on a ladder to view these luscious beauties face to face. Designed perfectly to fit the face of a Mexican Long-nosed bat, nevertheless, I stuck my nose in one. The scent was of mildly sweet, of nectar, and other exotic undefinable odors. Nothing frugal or spartan about these flowers. They are as extravagant as anything tropical. Maybe because they bloom only once and at night. They must give up all their pleasures for that one night.

I’m sure I was not the first visitor to that flower, but that’s ok. From the look of all the large fruit set all around the Desert Lab, these saguaros are well pollinated. Surely a bat had been in there last night, and a white-winged dove just after dawn, had shoved her whole head into this flower, draining the tiny pool of nectar waiting there like wine in the bottom of a tall goblet.