Joshua Tree and Beyond

Several days ago, now, we hurriedly packed up our tent between rain showers and drove out of Joshua Tree National Park. Rained out of the desert! In a matter of moments, our tent had almost been inundated by a flash floodlet which we diverted by digging trenches in the sand with the heels of our monsoon-soaked shoes. We quickly recognized that our wonderful little tent site was in fact a wash zone, and that the whole area in which we were staying was subject to instantaneous flooding by rainwater shed from rocky outcrops all around us, so we opted to pack up and find a motel.

For most of that day we lingered in Joshua Tree, driving the geology road and visiting the cholla cactus “forest”. Later we drove southward out of the park, and away from the odd little Joshua trees with their up-stretching limbs, down in elevation and in grandeur to the barren, dry desert toward the border with Mexico. There before us was the conundrum of the Imperial Valley, so productive and lush where water is applied to the parched land; searingly hot and dessicatingly dry, so menacing and life-threatening when water is withheld. The sky was dark with cloud. Along the roads there was an increasing number of ominus patrol vehicles, some marked and others not, with uniformed, armed immigration and border patrol guards seeking illegal migrants from Mexico. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of Central and South American people cross into the US on foot through the desert each day. All along the roadway I could imagine the spirits of those who have given up the ghost while attempting to cross this inhospitable barren land while seeking a better life for themselves and their families.

We came into heavy rain in the late afternoon with flashes of heat lightening and surges of water in the normally dry drainages. Rain pelted our windshield making it difficult to see. It was a dramatic sight, and unusual given the desert environment. At the same time, in my mind’s eye, I imagined I could see the outline of persons currently crossing that treacherous land on foot, their arms raised high, like the Joshua trees, in thankful appreciation of the life-giving water.