Christmas was long past. The weak afternoon glow of a cloudy west Texas fading March sky had only enough strength to highlight the golden dagger tips of an erect, five-foot tall, spent Christmas Cholla. I was mesmerized by the plant’s startlingly wicked achromatic beauty. The plant was off the beaten track, three layers deep, nearly hidden by ancient, drought-petrified thorn scrub – but worth the shredded clothing to get the shot.

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