The Logical Lizard

Here is something that delights and amazes me about Tucson: I live in a city in which hundreds, possibly thousands, of people will stop what they are doing on a Saturday night, pay five dollars, and hike a considerable distance on dark rocky trails, likely passing a rattlesnake or two on the way, in order to look at a flower. I am, of course, speaking of none other than the majestic Peniocereus greggii or night-blooming Cereus, more romantically known as the Queen of the Night.

The Queen of the Night blooming at Tohono Chul park

This remarkable plant, reminiscent at least in my mind of the mythical lotus, passes nearly all of its life looking like a thin, coarse, dried-up stalk or twig. It is part of the cactus family and for 364 days out of the year only the wily and observant botanist would give poor old Peniocereus a second glance. In its day job, the Cereus sadly resembles a cast-off limb from a nightmarish giant stick insect.

There is something tragic yet wonderfully alluring about the Queen of the Night: a year spent baking, unnoticed in the desert followed by a few short hours in which she produces intoxicating flowers that luxuriate for one night, then close up forever under the first rays of sunlight. It reads like a fairy tale. Can’t you just imagine an impossible quest on which, in order to save his sweetheart from a curse, a fantasy novel hero must hunt through the darkened desert in search of a flower that blooms only once.

Detail of the night-blooming Cereus

In real life, the in-the-know, adventurous, botanically-minded enthusiast will drop everything and head to Tohono Chul park in northwest Tucson on that one magical night to gaze in wonder upon the mysterious Cereus. You can even sign up for an email alert, and how exciting when it arrives: “Bloom Night – TONIGHT ONLY! at Tohono Chul park.”

2009 was miraculous for the Queen of the Night’s fan club. This year there were two blooms, the first on May 30, and then on Saturday, June 26, a very few plants presented themselves to the delight of intrepid nocturnal visitors. The pathways of Tohonu Chul were delicately lit with paper bag luminarias and, after walking some good long distance, we encountered a spectacular Cereus tucked away in a dark corner, under a mesquite tree.

Photographing the Queen is tricky. You see plenty of camera flashes going off, but such intense white light washes out Cereus’ delicate colors. We carried small portable lights with us, carefully positioned the tripod, took some long exposures, paid our respects, and then set out again on the long walk back to the truck. All to see a flower in the night? Really, it was worth every bit of inconvenience. I’ll be back next year, and don’t forget your flashlight.