April 6th, 2011

Joshua Trees are a bit difficult to explain. Yet, I feel inclined to do so considering I am sitting in the midst of one of the largest stands of the oldest Joshua Trees in the world. When I was young my family would watch a fourth of July fireworks display in our neighborhood. My favorite Firework that I looked forward to seeing every year started out like any other. A distant thud sent a faint glimmer of white light streaking up into the sky and as its trajectory slowed flashes of white light blast in every direction. As they fell each piece would slow and start to fade, but suddenly as if invigorated they excitedly flashed back to life and rocketed screaming in a new and unpredictable direction.

Joshua Trees must be the equivalent to this fiery spectacle as it grows in a sporadic twisting and turning fashion, splitting off and redirecting as it grows. It helps too that the leaves of this miraculous tree grow as a bunch on the end of every branch and in a fashion that mirrors an explosion or some facsimile thereof. If you can imagine a single trunk splitting in two directions, and each splitting again with a new direction in mind. Continuing this process exponentially may give you the sense that this tree wants to be extremely complex and intricately woven.

Each needle of this tree is around ten inches long and stiff enough to give you a good jab. When it has fulfilled its responsibility to the tree the leaf yellows and folds back much same way a palm frond does. It can take these trees several decades to reach a height of only a few feet, but the grove I am immersed in houses specimens over twenty feet tall and containing countless branches. It is safe to estimate that these gargantuans are centuries old, perhaps standing tall before white settlers crossed the Atlantic.

This stand is known as the Wee Thump Joshua Tree Wilderness. The term wee thump is a Yuman word meaning ‘the ancient ones.’ They believe that these ancient trees are their ancestors who have taken the form of the slow growing giants.

When a Joshua grows too large or grows sick it falls over and slowly decays. One of the more interesting aspects of these fascinating plants is how shallow their roots are. A giant twenty foot tree may have a root system that forms a disc shape less than a foot below the sand surface. However, shooting out from this disc are hundreds of thin roots like rays on a child’s depiction of the sun or spines on a sea urchin. By covering more surface area in this way the trees are able to collect more water before it seeps away into the depths of the sandy soil.

We are camping here tonight so that we can get an earlier jump on the South McCullough mountains tomorrow morning. I spent my day in a wash on the northern border of the Spirit Mountain Wilderness hiking an old mining road. The closing of this particular old road is currently under debate, and for good reason. Well over grown by shrubs and grasses and in many places impossible to travel by vehicle, White Rock Road cuts through some of the best habitat for birds, reptiles and insects in the area.

Every step of the twin track meandering up and down washes and ridgelines was covered in a layer of white, yellow or blue wildflowers. The whole of the hillsides were covered by small bushes that appeared yellow for their abundant coat of small sunny flowers. The air was alive with bees and flies anxiously buzzing from bloom to bloom.

We turned a corner on the road and followed the tire tread up another hill and were greeted by a humming, buzzing from the rocks along the trail. We quickly associated the rattling with its maker, a large Mojave rattlesnake not happy to have been approached so closely. At first, she toyed with the idea of fleeing, but as she bolted she landed upon a rock which she fancied a stage. Puffer her body up as large as she could she raised more than half of her body length off the rock and struck a frighteningly intimidating pose. With her neck forming a tight S shape she slowly stretched her tongue down and then curled it up over head. All the while her rattle quivering fervently. Chris snapped a surreal photo and we left her to calm her nerves.

A cool rain came in the afternoon and we started working our way down the hill. As I strolled, avoiding trampling wildflowers, I heard a faint high-pitched squeak like that of a bird far away. I looked in the direction it came from, eager to see a new bird but came to find nothing in view. I turned and carried on my hike only hear the sound again, only closer. I waited a moment, rain dripping from the brim of my hat and soaking into my shirt when a small black streak flashed across my view and turned sharply skyward. I immediately recognized the tiny frame and blurred wings as that of a hummingbird and as quickly as I had it marked it turned and reversed its course diving headlong towards the ground. As its speed increased it let out its gleeful screech, as if yelling “WEEEE” in its dive-bombing run. Just as it approached the ground it banked back hard and again rose straight into the air. It continued this jubilant U shaped pattern playfully for many minutes as I watched intently and smiling. I like think that this was his celebration of the rain watering his flowers and could not contain his excited dance to mark the occasion. As he chased the rain drops down to the ground my mind turned to the many ways that we humans celebrate the changing seasons with dancing, festivals and parades. Once again our distance from other animals grows smaller. I took off my hat and tilted my face back so that I too could enjoy this rare desert rain and appreciate the feeling of a good life with this hummingbird.

I’ve come to learn since that day that this U shaped pattern is part of a courtship ritual that these hummingbirds participate in. The gleeful sound that the bird makes on its dive is actually the sound of special tail feathers vibrating when the bird reaches just the right speed.