I can’t imagine being an early pioneer encountering Death Valley for the first time.
Devil’s Golf Course
Devil’s Corn Field
I suppose it must have felt like hell. As someone who is not, however, a pioneer – as someone with gallons of water in her trunk – I find Death Valley to be comfortingly brutal. It is every part of the desert that I love.
Alien rock forms.
Plants that have no right to survive.
Sand and rocks and heat.
As you sweat, it evaporates. The air itself is as starved for moisture as the landscape. Not even night brings relief – the ground is so hot that well into the next morning, it still burns your hand to touch it.
There’s something so plain and matter-of-fact, so ethereal and savage. Factual and unbelievable.
This is why I love the desert. It feels like everything and nothing colliding over and over.