The landscape and inhabitants of Baja California lend themselves to descriptions in terms of extremes. This morning the eroded and serrated layers of Angel de la Guarda offered a soft palette of alternating bands of peach, jade and rust hues. The forces creating these pastel-toned layers involved extremes of volcanism, tremendous upheaval and intense pressure. We found the landscape dotted with tenacious botany. Stunted trees sheltered diminutive cacti from the searing rays and soaring temperatures of summer. On rare occasions, tremendous storms pummel the landscape with rain. Temporary rivers gather, wreaking havoc in their pathway; trees are uprooted, small boulders are plucked and shifted downstream, massive cardons may topple to the ground. These rivers quickly exhaust themselves and the stoic denizens of the desert resume their daily quest for survival.
This afternoon we came to the extreme in botanical description. Godfrey Sykes reached into the world of fairytale and mythical beasts in 1923 when he first laid eyes on an aberration of a tree and declared, “Ho! Ho! A Boojum!” Today, in the upper reaches of the Baja California peninsula, we too marveled at the inability to describe this remarkable botanical creature. We walked in a contorted forest of Boojum trees. Strange curves, twists and convolutions of branches suggested dancers frozen in position when the music suddenly stopped. Time is an extreme in this forest. Literature cites these plants to be at least five to six hundred years old. Stoic denizens of the Sonoran desert thriving in the extremes of heat and drought. Truly a strangely wonderful forest to meander through.
We stayed until sunset, capturing the glowing papaya tones of a setting sun intermingled in the outstretched branches of a pair of Boojums. With the urgency of last call and enveloping darkness, we reluctantly left our enchanted forest. Perhaps it was best to leave before dark. In such a place, strange things may happen. Boojums may uproot themselves, shake out their thorny skirts and dance in the dark silhouetted by moonlight until another sunrise freezes the gyrating creatures into new contortions of distortion for another day. This land of extremes is the only home for the whimsical Boojum.
This afternoon we came to the extreme in botanical description. Godfrey Sykes reached into the world of fairytale and mythical beasts in 1923 when he first laid eyes on an aberration of a tree and declared, “Ho! Ho! A Boojum!” Today, in the upper reaches of the Baja California peninsula, we too marveled at the inability to describe this remarkable botanical creature. We walked in a contorted forest of Boojum trees. Strange curves, twists and convolutions of branches suggested dancers frozen in position when the music suddenly stopped. Time is an extreme in this forest. Literature cites these plants to be at least five to six hundred years old. Stoic denizens of the Sonoran desert thriving in the extremes of heat and drought. Truly a strangely wonderful forest to meander through.
We stayed until sunset, capturing the glowing papaya tones of a setting sun intermingled in the outstretched branches of a pair of Boojums. With the urgency of last call and enveloping darkness, we reluctantly left our enchanted forest. Perhaps it was best to leave before dark. In such a place, strange things may happen. Boojums may uproot themselves, shake out their thorny skirts and dance in the dark silhouetted by moonlight until another sunrise freezes the gyrating creatures into new contortions of distortion for another day. This land of extremes is the only home for the whimsical Boojum.
