California: Going Out to Get Back In (to Yourself)

I found myself on long, narrow roads that reach to some far-off place, alone. The desert passed by, Joshua trees eclipsing the sun. The silence of solo travel in a barren landscape. Out here, it is the in-between that matters, with the destination being somewhat unimportant. Bands of two-lane asphalt that dip and bend to far-away points across the immense valley. They are the kinds of roads that will have you talking to yourself.

It’s easy to understand why so many escape to the desert to soothe their city-battered souls and seek out that spiritual language that oozes from the landscape here. The town of Joshua Tree and its surrounding magic stand as sentinels for those wearied by the rush and indignities of the city. Just a hundred or so miles east of the City of Angels, the desert landscape has become a regular escape for many Angelenos. This week, I’m one of them, entering into the ocean of sand into which no oar is dipped.

The area is named for the strangely spindly Joshua tree (Yucca brevifolia). Native Americans used its tough leaves for baskets and sandals, and they ate its flower buds and seeds, either raw or roasted, providing a healthy addition to their diet. The trees are a distinctive and beautifully odd adjunct to the barrenness, worthy of the effort to find a remote grove to wander through in meditation. Tall and unusual, Joshuas aren’t trees at all but succulents, storing water in this dry ecosystem. Usually single-trunked, they can grow from 20 to 40 feet tall, some reaching almost double that.