The Desert Ball

The spring of 2019 will go down in history as one of the most prolific super blooms to date.  The “Mega Bloom” in coastal California brought people flocking in from all corners of the Earth to revel in waist-high fields overflowing in bright orange and yellow wild flowers. Further east, the Sonoran Desert in the Phoenix and Tucson areas erupted in a rainbow of field flowers and colorful cactus blossoms.   Death Valley is always a tourist destination in the Mohave Desert as travelers seek out one of the most desolate landscapes on  Earth.  It becomes even more alluring during a super bloom where plants that have remained dormant for years, or even decades, come to life.  The jewel of the Mohave Desert is the sparking turquoise waters of Lake Havasu. However, the rest of the Mohave Desert is like a forgotten step child, stretching from the south-eastern portion of California, though the southern tip of Nevada, brushing the edges of the western portion of northern Arizona.  Its only notable namesake is Interstate 40, the thoroughfare for transport trucks moving supplies in and out of Los Angeles.

 We drive this lonely stretch of highway almost weekly as we leave Los Angeles and head to our desert home in Lake Havasu City.  There isn’t much to see, other than a few barren mountain ranges framing massive stretches of sand, gravel, sage and mesquite brush. However, this spring it was much different!

Big Rich and I have been making the trek from LA to Lake Havasu City for over ten years.  Traveling that long lonesome stretch of the I-40, we have never seen it so lush with greenery and ribbons of fields of low lying pastel purple and yellow flowers.  Peering out the passenger window, gazing as the blur of yellow and purple flashed by, I was reminded of Impressionism paintings.  Closer to the edge of the road heavier green vegetation and pops of bright orange defined a beautiful border; but far in the distance, spanning the vast stretch of the desert to the mountains, the fields of soft yellow and purple blurred into the horizon.

The seed for painting number four was planted.  I summoned my muse to flow with impressionism and gave over control of the brush to said energy.  I made my attempt at an impressionistic interpretation of this expansive stretch of desert- this part of the world, where the step-sister never gets to go to the ball, the one who stays home and tends to the grueling chores.  However, in 2019, she got her chance to shine.  She may have paled in comparison to the grandiose display of coastal California, the anomaly of life erupting in Death Valley and the vibrant cactus blooms of the Sonoran Desert, but she definitely showed up in her very best gown.

In honor of this rare event, I have penned a short poem for her:

Stretching miles across the desert flat,

Barren and dusty, no one stops to chat.

Year in and year out, she looks the same,

Homely and dull, feeling the shame.

Thousands pass by on a daily basis,

However, she offers not an oasis.

Then came the gift of the winter rain,

And more and more, and more again.

Her cracks soaked it up, her wrinkles smoothed out,

Nourished and swollen, it was the end of the drought!

She put on her best, in purple and yellow,

Decked out for the ball, would she find a fellow?

She entered the venue, turning some heads,

The hues of her finery enhancing her threads.

Not opulent as others in their full bloom,

She held her head high, showcasing her plume.

To her surprise many asked her to dance,

Hoping they could just get a chance!

Not quite the principal belle of the ball,

She showcased her beauty and didn’t play small.

Her time, yes it came, it finally did,

People took notice, she was part of the grid!

Her dance may be over, for however long,

But she will return, singing her song.

For as long as it takes, she’ll be waiting in rest,

When the rains come again, she’ll be looking her best!

As a footnote: I struggled with this painting. Less is more. Impressionism is not easy! Ursula: I told you so!!!