illphated
By illphated
Published on illphated.com
⸻
Out past the thorn thickets and mesquite, where the air smells of sunburnt stone and old secrets, there lived an armadillo named Marlow. Not much taller than a boot and quieter than a prayer, Marlow wasn’t the sort to bother anyone, nor the type to be bothered. He had his burrow. He had his rhythm. He had his cactus.
The cactus stood tall at the edge of his clearing, like a sentinel in green armor, soaking in the sky with a patience only the desert could teach. Marlow never leaned on it. He respected its thorns — respected what it took to grow that tall in a land that tried to kill everything soft.
One summer, the rains didn’t come.
Lizards were sun-dried on rocks. Coyotes howled not for prey, but for water. And into Marlow’s quiet life rolled trouble: a band of wild raccoons, desperate, hungry, full of schemes and excuses.
“Lend us your burrow,” they barked. “We’ll pay you back when the rain returns.”
“Let us lean,” they said, “just for a while.”
Marlow listened. He didn’t argue. He didn’t puff up or snap back. He simply stood near his cactus, blinked slow, and said:
“Don’t lean on me.”
He dug deeper that night. Found a new water pocket. Ate beetles that tasted like bark and stored the rest.
By fall, the raccoons had scattered — half-starved and snarling — chasing mirages and making promises to whoever still listened. But Marlow? He was stronger. Wiser. Scarred maybe, but full.
And the cactus? Still there. Still standing.
⸻
Moral:
Being self-sufficient doesn’t mean going it alone out of pride. It means understanding that real strength comes from knowing your roots, weathering storms, and not collapsing under someone else’s weight when you’re still holding up your own. Lean on your grit. Stand tall like the cactus. Be like Marlow.
⸻
More hard-learned desert wisdom and digital folklore at
🌵 illphated.com
#illphated #SelfSufficient #DesertCode #DontLeanOnMe