|West of the sunrise, Wonder Valley, CA|
These are the Pinto Mountains south of Highway 62. Shelton Road goes out there. I want to explore a little. Google map shows some shallow canyons.
My favorite thing to do in Wonder Valley is to wake while it is still dark and to walk down the driveway and look toward the mountains. If I stand in just the right spot the bushes block lights across the highway and all I can see is darkness. I can imagine what it was like to be in this place before the white man improved it. And each time I see this darkness I cherish it because I know it is the nature of capital to seek the unspoiled to improve and one day the lights of a casino, or a quarry, or a hospital, or a gas station, or a hotel, will spoil this view and I'll say things like, "I remember when we first moved here and you could look across the highway and see no lights at all."
It was just 100 degrees yesterday. Just. At the beginning of the year that would have been an anomaly for me. Now it's a promise of cooler days ahead. At 3:00 p.m. yesterday Ken put two Little Johns (Callistemon citrinus) into the ground and I filled in a big hole that the previous owners had dug for a new outhouse. We did this in 100 degree heat and it was no big deal. I'd say we've acclimated.
The Little Johns are bee forage. Bees love them. Ken's donning his bee suit on Saturday and will help Kip relocate a hive from the wall behind his water heater. I already put the frames together and we moved the boxes from LA to Joshua Tree.
Afterwards I sat on the north porch. It's shadier and the wind kicks up in the afternoon. It was cool and breezy. I looked at the distant hills and thought:
I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.
Psalm 121:1I'm not religious anymore, but from time to time these verses come back to me with their poetic resonance. I see more clearly that "where" is as important as "who," that who we are is also where we are.
|Bench. Wonder Valley, CA|