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.