SAGUARO

Amid the immense saguaro cacti of their rancho, an abuelo and grandchild ponder the cycles of life.

“On our rancho there are giants.” As a warm red sun hangs above, the youngster sits on Abuelo’s shoulders, both with arms stretched to the skies beside the saguaros that reach up, too. Abuelo speaks of family and miracles. After all, the cacti have resided on the land for generations, born from seeds, pollinated by hummingbirds, spread by coyotes, and nursed under the shadows of trees. Atop the saguaro’s head and arms, pods of plump fruit blossom, nourishment for people and animals alike. “But why do they take so long to grow?” asks the youngster. A saguaro’s arm can take 50 years to grow, and even more for its flowers to bloom. Abuelo compares the cactus to family—it can take “generations to get where we’re going” and for our own seeds to flower. Writing in a measured, wistful tone, Kemp pulls on the magical underpinnings of the natural world to craft a tale of familial bonds and heritage, centered on a child’s earnest perspective. Likewise, D’Alessandro’s lush artwork favors purples, pinks, and greens to depict rather dreamlike landscapes between grounded scenes of rancho life. Above all, the saguaros loom in different sizes, angles, and impressions. Abuelo and grandchild read Latine.

Richly meditative.