Early Spring in the Providence Mountains

Mojave National Preserve

A season, yet a fleeting mood within eternity.  A blending of timidity with courage.  A quality of its imagination; a vigor of its emotions; an expression of its destiny.  Above a dark gray cloud cover, the limestone peaks of sky islands reach into the deepest cobalt blue.  Below the clouds, the desert floor is gray and silent, damp with melting light snow. 

The ceiling opens, and dazzling sunshine illuminates a vast desert panorama.  Sunlight warms jagged ridges, red basalt bluffs and towering crags, speaking softly to the soul of immortal rock crafted by elements over eons.  Sage, prickly pear and barrel cactus shout with electric purples, magentas, and yellows among snowdrifts in shallow dry washes.  On steep cliffs, bighorn pairs graze ever higher as tender grass shoots appear on alpine ledges with each lengthening day.  Distant echoes of eagle and coyote merge in harmony with delicate water chimes of snowmelt.  The music is gently lifted by pure, fragrant soft breezes, and borne across a limitless vista of flowering desert.  It will whisper within each grain of sand for a billion tomorrows. 

These vibrant ecosystems embrace interdependence, to survive and thrive in harmony without greed, mayhem, hate, or anger.

--Will Walsh ©2014

(I thank Christina Mills, now-retired Chief Interpreter, National Park Service, for her dedicated stewardship of Mojave National Preserve.)