The Joshua Tree

June 9, 2015

Going from Los Angeles to the northeast region, the land precipitously runs away from the sea and transforms into sharp-looking peaks and high plains that offer the viewer sumptuous illusions and Jurassic desolation. The sand reaches the road edge, an ochre thin dust splattered of uncouth herbs and uneducated bushes.

A lizard is what it is thanks to the fact that they are all the same, just like a yucca is exactly the same as any other yucca. Notwithstanding, it is obvious that the nature did not tell a Joshua tree how to act right after it was born, that is why it throws its arms to the sky imploring and, while it waits for a response, every single specimen cannot do anything but being their own God and decide the shape their next branch will adopt: it’s called responsibility.

I have made 153 kilometers to reach Twentynine Palms, access gate to the Joshua Tree National Park. On my way here, a lot of people asked me after seeing the sponsors on the sail, where am I headed to.  I have gotten a lot of “Oh my goodness!” responses. There was a lady who stepped out of her car and emotionally kissed me twice after hearing the story. Before that, she asked where is a whike manufactured and noted that this would explain my Dutch accent. The warmest person was this gentleman close to Landers. It was around noon and asked to accept an invitation to have lunch at his house; he wanted all his family to meet me. I declined and thanked him, yet he kept on insisting “how can I help you?” “Do you need some money?” “Can I buy you something?” “Just let me help you”. But do not get me wrong, it was not charity at all; he was just feeling that, at that moment, he had the power to do something for me and wanted to do it no matter what, like I will not have more opportunities tomorrow. How sweet would it be if everybody would do the same?  People respond with greatness to greatness, and yes, it is contagious—like Bertold Brecht used to say, yet some people are just immune.

If you want to be great, you ought to try great things, and that is why I decided the whike is now going to be called Amelia after the intrepid American aviator.