I guess I’m in a poetry mood this month! I always thought the desert was pretty barren of life, but our days in Baja showed me differently.
The gusts of sand roll past the alkali heath, and the jackrabbit hurries away.
The iguana pulls down the shades of his eyes, as he moves in his ponderous way.
The cardinal sits in the cholla and warbles his bright desert song,
To his mate in a patch of Ciruelo, and the Baja wind sends it along.
The Chaparral hen by the creosote bush, cocks her ear to one side as he sings,
Then rushes away to find food for her young, while above an Oriole wings.
A rattlesnake scarcely brushes the sand as he seeks out a small patch of shade,
And tiny eyes watch as he moves far away from the den in the rocks they have made.
The white Golondrina tenaciously clings to the sand as it spreads out its shoots.
The purple and white Periwinkles add their beauty and send down deep roots.
Down by the tall candeltilla, there are woodpecker holes in Cardon,
Where the iguana sometimes make their abode, peering out at the hot, desert sun.
This land may seem barren and yet teams with life; if you listen you’ll hear it’s wild song;
From the top of the mountains, down to the sea, and the Baja wind sends it along.
Diana Wallis Taylor