Vision

In the legends of the saints and the prophets, either a desert or a mountain is pretty sure to figure. It is usually in the middle of one or on the top of the other that the vision comes or the test is met. To give their message to the world they come down or come out, but it is almost invariably in a solitude, either high or dry, that it is first revealed.

                                                                    ― Joseph Wood Krutch, The Desert Year

Krishna Janmashtami

He is the devotee who is jealous of none, who is a fount of mercy, who is without egotism, who is selfless, who treats alike cold and heat, happiness and misery, who is ever forgiving, who is always contented, whose resolutions are firm, who has dedicated mind and soul to God, who causes no dread, who is not afraid of others, who is free from exultation, sorrow and fear, who is pure, who is versed in action and yet remains unaffected by it, who renounces all fruit, good or bad, who treats friend and foe alike, who is untouched by respect or disrespect, who is not puffed by praise, who does not go under when people speak ill of him, who loves silence and solitude, who has a disciplined reason.                                                                                                                            --Mahatma Gandhi "On the Gita"

‘Why Leap Ye, Ye High Hills?’

“I’ve got it now,” cried Bull, “it was because he was so fat and so light. Just like a balloon. We always think of fat people as heavy, but he could have danced against a sylph. I see now what I mean. Moderate strength is shown in violence, supreme strength is shown in levity. It was like the old speculations—what would happen if an elephant could leap up in the sky like a grasshopper?”

     “Our elephant,” said Syme, looking upwards, “has leapt into the sky like a grasshopper.”

     “And somehow,” concluded Bull, “that’s why I can’t help liking old Sunday. No, it’s not an admiration of force, or any silly thing like that. There is a kind of gaiety in the thing, as if he were bursting with some good news. Haven’t you sometimes felt it on a spring day? You know Nature plays tricks, but somehow that day proves they are good-natured tricks. I never read the Bible myself, but that part they laugh at is literal truth, ‘Why leap ye, ye high hills?’ The hills do leap—at least, they try to.... Why do I like Sunday?... how can I tell you?... because he’s such a Bounder.”

                                                                                    --G. K. Chesterton, The Man Who Was Thursday

Rains

The monsoon rains arrived early this year, and the desert is again in bloom.  For those who have depended on the desert for survival over the centuries, the rainy season has always brought abundance.  The desert adorns itself in green--a green that seems to appear out of nowhere.  Plants that looked dead spring back to life.  Drought evaders rise up out of the rocky soil.  The cacti swell and take on more rounded forms.  Overnight, the ocotillos that had looked like dead sticks adorn themselves in tiny leaves.  Birds, reptiles, and mammals take advantage of the tender new growth, the grasses and ripening fruits.

These barrel cacti are crowned with fiery orange buds and blossoms,

and this cluster of nipple beehive cacti are also in bloom,

as is this solitary specimen.

The southern goldenbush (which I recently misidentified as rabbitbrush) has bright flowers that attract bees and other insects, including some type of longhorn beetle.

The Apache plume makes white flowers and pastel-pink plumes that are actually long, hair-like, seed-carrying appendages, which develop from the style of the flower and are attached to a tiny fruit (achene).

And even this cactus in a pot at home (Echinopsis x [?]) has joined in the celebration of the rains.

Hawks

A pair of Swainson’s hawks were circling above a desert hillside near my home.  As soon as one of them noticed me, it began to swoop down and sail just inches above my head.  It would cry out as it climbed back into the sky--a sharp, high-pitched cry.  I don’t know if it was protecting a nest, or simply guarding its hunting grounds (as the recent rains have brought out plenty of insects, lizards, and small mammals).  I was surprised how close it came to me, but its gracefulness and precise navigation were truly spellbinding.