During break, I returned to my arid, hot weather homeland in the West. The ecosystem I call home is a range of LA suburbia mixed with chaparral, shrubland, and coast oak forests. My Elm-City-paled skin drank sunlight and took on a few shades with each brief outing — walking my nearly toothless dog, dropping my brother off to school, etc.
I did, however, get my escape: a fabulous four-day excursion to Joshua Tree, one of the lesser appreciated national parks located on the fringe of San Bernardino county (two hours from LA). Under bucketfuls of stars, I quietly slipped into my twenties on the Ides of March, ate impressive volumes of peanut butter, and shut my phone off for most of the day.
The jagged and impressive granite formations of Joshua Tree are one of the (physically) standout characteristics of the otherwise flat park. These igneous formations have a history of being tagged with names shared with common emojis (Skull Rock, Heart Rock, etc.). Bored of these trite names, we gave the lumpy metamorphic mounds new ones: peaches, olives, avocados. All pitted things, I realized when I recounted our silly lines. Was there some semblance with the emptiness of fruit? Places we put our feet. Pits to empty, and fill.