I had a five hour drive through the desert once I arrived in Loreto. The air on my face felt like a blow dryer, with the odd cloud giving me only moments reprieve. On the eastern side of the Baja Peninsula, the desert was lush from recent rains. It had come alive with yellow flowers covering the sandy ground, with the odd bright red bloom atop the tall cardon cactus. The roads were very narrow, with steep shoulders so that every time a truck passed I tucked my arm in and held my breath, expecting the side window to be torn off. Miraculously, it was always a clean pass...
As I crossed to the western coast, the land became much more desolate and barren. It is much drier. I passed two donkeys walking a path that follows the highway. Walking to and from where, I had no idea. Besides the odd small town and deserted building along the way, there is nothing here, just a straight stretch of highway that disappears into the horizon.
Normally, we all drive down. My family and I try to take at least one vacation a year together, and it's usually a 40 hour drive to our property in Baja. Although we dread the drive, there is something therapeutic about it. We are forced to slow down, detach from the fast-paced lives we left, and enjoy the time together. So although I missed the 40 hour drive, the drive through the desert, wind blowing, music blaring is helping me slow my mind and appreciate both where I am coming from and what lies at the end of the desert road.
The mornings come quickly. Sleep is so deep here. A red ball rises from the ocean, the sand and water glowing in its light. Everything is still. Then there are the birds, swooping in perfect unison, only inches above the water.
The land looks barren and yet it is teeming with life. In the morning, the tracks in the sand betray all that is hidden. The afternoon winds pick up as the land is heated, creating perfect offshore conditions. We sit patiently in the ocean, waiting for the next set to come out of the horizon. Pelicans fly by, swooping in a sort of dance, and then the arch of a dolphin crests, under, then crests again. The winds whips at the breaking waves, so that rainbows form on the backside, showering us in color. One of us takes each wave, a long ride into the beach... the winds carrying our hoots and hollers far down the bay.
This... is heaven.
