This cactus looks like it's wearing a fuzzy red hat.

The desert garden stretched out like a natural tapestry of resilience. This particular cactus caught my eye with its red-topped stems, almost as if it were wearing a crown of fire. I crouched closer to inspect its spines—sharp yet orderly—while the dry gravel crunched beneath my boots. Around me, other cacti stood tall like sentinels of the arid land, their shadows dancing faintly on the sunlit stones. It was a quiet kind of beauty, one that didn’t demand attention but earned it through its sheer determination to thrive. The air here was different too—drier yet somehow alive with the faint scent of earth and distant blooms.