Reflections from a Walk in the Desert

Friday, Jun. 09, 2023

A couple of weeks ago I was in St. George for work and took the opportunity to go for a long solitary walk in the desert. 

It’s been a while since I’ve gone out to the desert in either a literal or figurative sense, and that morning served as a reminder of why I need to return to the habit, because it refreshes the body and the soul.

The first several minutes are always a time of wonder. I’d never been to the Red Cliffs National Conservation Area, so I enjoyed the sensation of going somewhere new, even though my motel was less than a 15-minute drive away. That morning, the rising sun and storm clouds sent shadows across the Pine Valley Mountains, an ever-changing play of light I watched as I walked. 

There’s not much in the way of flora in the Mojave Desert, but I was fortunate enough to be there right when the cacti, yucca and desert sage were in bloom. A few weeks earlier or later and the beautiful flowers wouldn’t have been on display, but that day I was treated to a prism of scarlet cactus, waxy white yucca and purple sage along with leaves in various shades of green against the brick-colored soil.

I’d hoped to see some animal species native to the area, such as a desert tortoise or a sidewinder, but if they were present they stayed hidden. A couple of lizards did dart across my path, but they were too small to be a chuckwalla or a Gila monster, which I’ve never seen. I did catch sight of several birds. In particular, a pair of ravens drifted across the sky for several minutes, calling back and forth.

The novelty of the scenery wore off after the first mile. So did the sounds of the city. Also by then the litany of petty concerns that usually occupies my mind had run its course, so my thoughts were able to turn inward. A workshop on the gifts of the Holy Spirit had taken me to St. George, so I asked the Paraclete to make himself present on my walk.

No, I didn’t have a mystical experience, but I was able to rid myself of a mental lassitude that had been dogging me. And that walk may have spurred the journaling that I did as I observed the workshop. (When I’m reporting on an event, I rarely participate because it’s too easy to get caught up in the activities and forget that I’m there to observe, photograph and report. So while the participants were gathered together, I was at a table in the corner with my tape recorder on and my pencil in hand, jotting down thoughts as they came.)

The Bible tells us that Jesus frequently went off by himself to pray, either into the wilderness or up a mountain. My own walk in the desert showed the rewards of that practice. I do pray at home and in my car and in church, but the wilderness is a completely different environment. In the desert, on the mountain, humans aren’t monarchs of all we survey, despite what William Cowper said. Rather, in the wilderness we are exposed to the weather and to beasts that can kill us. The desert’s sere landscape is a reminder of how dependent we are on God. Being out alone amid the sand and sun also was an opportunity to be conscious of the life and love I’ve received from God.

St. Augustine says God gave us two books from which to learn about him: Scripture and nature. I agree, but I would add a corollary, that both books also teach us about ourselves.