The hot, heavy air clung to my body as I stepped out of the red Jeep we had rented for the week.  I took a deep breath in before donning my mask.  No entry without a mask.  All inside exhibits were closed and though outside it was required.  The water fountains and water bottle filing stations were off and yet the masks must stay on. We showed our prepaid tickets to the cashier and made our way through the gate. The blinding late afternoon sun baked the dusty ground into clay.  Upon opening the brochure we found it contained mostly ads with one page dedicated to this botanical garden and the paths around it. Looking around I was startled to realize how alive this desert botanical garden truly was.  Not just the plants but the birds, lizards and rodents as well.  As we wandered down this path, I was mesmerized by the sights.  The sunlight made the plants glow, showcasing how vibrant these cactus blooms and spines were.  Everywhere I turned, the colors popped as the light became softer and lower in the sky.  It gave a depth to the colors that just wasn’t  there during the day.  It sang of beauty, quiet and hidden, only bursting forth in the spring of the year.  I was here, seeing those rare blooms, the spines of color, the rabbits and roadrunners scurrying. My husband and my camera were my companions as we explored the winding paths. The voices of others ahead and behind along the path carried softly, more of a muted current under the symphony from the birds.  The sun sank even more and still the plants glowed.  The long shadows did nothing to diminish the heat both rising from the earth and hanging in the air. Yet the heat contributed to the magic of the desert. Stepping onto a gravelly path, a caretaker came behind hanging the closed sign.  The place was started to shut down, we had time to walk the path but not to dawdle.  We rounded one bend after another, wanting to soak in everything but the fairy lights in the mesquite trees near the entrance was like a lighthouse signaling that our time was coming to an end. As the sun had slipped behind the earth, we realized that mornings and evenings were the magic hours of the desert.