|
|
|
|
 |
The Land and the Tree A photo essay by |
 |
"Geology is the study of pressure and time. That's all it takes really... pressure... and time..."
-- Morgan Freeman's character Red in the movie "The Shawshank Redemption" metaphorically explaining why his friend Andy escaped from prison
The desert is shrouded in mystery. I know what you're thinking: What a overused phrase. But it's true. What's mysterious is how the southwestern United States can show sure a diverse array of landscape -- from the arches and badlands in southern Utah, to the Grand Canyon in northern Arizona, to the 12,000-foot mountain ranges that rise from the floor of Death Valley in California.
If you don't like one particular area of the American desert, just drive another mile or two and you'll see something different. Mountains, valleys, canyons, sand dunes, plains, rock formations, dry lake beds, salt flats, even the decadence of Las Vegas. The American deserts host environments of extreme proportions, immense beauty, vast spaces, and sharp contrasts.
|
|
|
Just south of the Western Entrance to the park, you'll see this great view between two rock formations. |
One of the most fascinating aspects of the American deserts is the extreme condition of the environment. Take the temperatures, for example. The high temperature at Furnace Creek in Death Valley National Park during 2003 (July 12) was 128 degrees F. The low temperature during 2003 (December 28) was 28 degrees F. That's a range of 100 degrees on the valley floor from summer to winter. Imagine for a second what 128 degrees feels like. You can't. It defies your sense of comfort. A human being could not function for 15 minutes in that kind of heat without fatigue of mind or body. Then, imagine that same location at sub-freezing temperatures six months later. Amazing.
Some people see the emptiness, the desolation, the lifelessness of the desert. To some, it's a barren wasteland to deposit the garbage of big cities like Los Angeles and Las Vegas.
Visit the Mojave Desert of California and Nevada. Look around. What is it that you see? Do you see life? If you say no, then you're not looking hard enough. Look for the life, the hope, the light. It's there. You just need to want to find it. If you can't find life in the middle of the desert, then how are you going to find it in your own world? On your most trying days, how do you find hope? On your darkest nights, where do you find light?
The answer lies in your perception. People draw their strength in different areas -- for some it's exploring faith, for others it's creating or realizing music, or art, or theater. Or helping others, or sharing knowledge. Without perception, you can't find beauty even if you're not looking for it.
The challenge of exploring the desert stands in finding its glory. Find the beauty in the landscape, the rock formations, the open sky, the flora, the ground beneath your feet, the shadows, the tall trees. The Earth has shaped the American desert for millions of years. We are lucky enough to experience what is a melting pot of the Earth's activity. From the water-carving of Grand Canyon, to the wind-blown etching of Death Valley, to the seismic shifting of Joshua Tree National Park, the desert is alive. It's full of life and light. What you see in the southwestern United States is a study of time and pressure.
Here's my story of how I found it and how I captured a small fraction of its beauty.
|
|
I have visited
Joshua Tree National Park five times in the past five years. I lived in Southern California
for 13 years growing up as a teenager. I never experienced the
vast beauty of the deserts until the day I left California to
move to Florida. How ironic.
Driving east on I-10 from LA, I was struck by the calmness, the serenity, the open spaces of the landscape in the lower desert. Just past Palm Springs in the Coachella Valley, I saw a road sign pointing to Joshua Tree National Monument. I was curious. I had to explore this area briefly since my favorite band U2 titled an album after this desert vegetation. I pulled off the highway and headed north toward the southern entrance (called the Cottonwood Entrance) of the monument. I was in awe. The jagged mountains at the southern border created a fortrace-type barrier to the flatlands that lay just past the entrance. The flattish plateau, part of the Colorado Desert, extended for dozens of miles, gradually gaining altitude as it eventually merged with the Mojave Desert. Although I drove only a few miles into the monument, I knew -- no, I promised myself -- that I would return someday when I had the time and resources to explore this wonderland. That was August of 1990. |
In the spring of 1999, I found the time and resources. I returned to the exact same location -- that road leading from I-10 to the Cottonwood Entrance -- where I made my promise to return. But this time, the monument, which Congress declared a national park in 1994, wasn't merely a sideshow. It was my playground for the next four days.
|
|
I drove north through the jagged
mountain range of the southern end of the park, across the lower
desert dotted with various knee-high shrubs that could only
survive in the hot, dry climate. The two-lane, paved road curved
right and left, left and right, for miles, gradually inclining.
Driving north, I could sense the environment changing slightly. The plains of the lower desert gave way to brown, harsh mountains and massive, tan boulders the size of large houses. The high desert was emerging. |
|
On the official National Park Service map of the park, you will see a zig-zagging area called the Transition Zone. This non-descript area marks the merge of the Colorado and Mojave Deserts. One of the best examples of this Transition Zone is located literally in the center of the park itself. Near the Transition Zone, you'll find the Cholla Cactus Garden and the Ocotillo Patch. The only north-south route in the park snakes from one desert to the other and through the Transition Zone. |
|
|
|
|
In the Spring of 2005, the transition zone at the Ocotillo Patch featured several cacti blooming after a winter of solid rain. Several locals said the spring bloom of 2005 was one of the strongest in decades due to the wet winter. |
|
|
|
The Mojave Desert features literally thousands of Joshua trees. |
|
|
|
|
These two massive ecosystems -- the Colorado and Mojave deserts -- connect with a dramatic change of scenery midway through the park. The park itself stands as the single best example of the transition between the two ecosystems.
Driving north on the only road that connects the two deserts in the park, I passed two natural garden patches a few miles apart - the Ocotillo Patch and the Cholla Cactus Garden. Both types of vegetation grow in unique environments, given the proper altitude, soil composition, and climate.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Click on the link below to access more pages:
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
© Brad
Biringer 1999-2005
All images displayed on joshuatreenationalpark.net may not be used for any
purpose without the written permission of the owner. All federal and/or
international copyright and intellectual property laws apply. Any abuse will be
reported to the state attorney's office for possible prosecution.
