arch rock

Raise 'em High

white tanks joshua trees

In what is becoming a new tradition, I ventured to Joshua Tree for a few days on my own prior to the onslaught of tumult the holidays bring. At one time I found little beauty in the desert, seeing only a stark and spare landscape devoid of the normal abundance of life. But the more I return to the desert the more I see; by uncluttering my vista I begin to really notice things more precious and rare. Simplicity, the arid desert breath, the scent of the creosote bringing clarity of thought and serenity to the heart; the moon illuminating sensual granite mounds where my tent nestles, stars so brilliant no lamp is needed, crisp November nights- these keep luring me back.

Joshua Tree place names raise questions in my mind; on this trip I traipsed around, over, and through places like Porcupine Wash, Ruby's Mill, Crown Prince Lookout, White Tanks, Ryan Mountain, Jumbo Rocks, Keys View, and the Wonderland of Rocks (from afar). Who were these people? What emboldened or maddened them enough to try to scratch out a life in this place? Why would anyone be on the lookout for Japanese warriors or Kamikazes in Joshua Tree? What happened in life that drove people to seek a hellacious refuge in this place? It is easy to see beauty here when survival is not at stake, but to try to LIVE here, alone and self-powered.....far sturdier than I.

“I want to run
I want to hide
I want to tear down the walls
That hold me inside
I want to reach out
And touch the flame
Where the streets have no name”
Bono, The Joshua Tree

HUM-WI-CHA-WA: the Cahuilla word for Joshua Tree. Humwichawa. Somehow seems a more fitting name for this tree-that-is-not-a-tree, arms raised in praise to the heavens, seeking its maker perhaps, mysterious and standing like mute friends across the landscape. It is strange, walking among these...beings? I am alone, but somehow don't feel alone in their presence, and yet I am a little creeped out by these guys. 

on crown prince lookout

wonderland of rocks from ryan mountain

barrel cactus spines near ruby lee mill

wash between ruby lee mill and porcupine wash

arch rock, white tanks

creosote branches

creosote branches

juniper snag, ryan mountain

white tanks granite

white tanks granite BW

The Joshua Tree

Standing tall on the arid desert floor
An ancient young man throws his arms to heaven
He cannot shout our names but knows us through our brethren
Standing there, year by year, a man of native lore.

Only seeing light and dark and feeling hot and cold
The sun scorches his hairy back as it sets in rays of gold
A silent man enduring, striving to be seen
By the forest of stone hearts, stirring in their dreams.

These hearts were etched long ago by gentle loving hands
At the dawn of time when light unchained from darkness by command
The tree wants to tell us of happiness and elation
But in piles of rubble we slumber, unaware of our salvation.
Jack Worthington
— http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-joshua-tree/