The Poem

…on a starlit desert night

glittering stars hang in the night sky
ablaze is the golden moon
reach up and grab it
use it to light and
gaze upon your lover’s face
on a crisp, cool night
you feel you could fly
on a sweet, desert night…
—–unknown

The Desert we love.

The above excerpt is taken from my favorite poem about the moon, Desert Night.  Not many things in the natural world stir emotion and passion like the moon.  It’s long been proclaimed in song, depicted in stories and myths, and romanticized in poetry. Calendars follow its cycles, farmers bring in their crops to it, and spells are cast under it.  I love the moon.  I’ve gazed at it from a beach in Samoa, atop a trestle bridge over the Mississippi, and from a sailboat on a mountain lake, but my favorite place to view the moon is always from the Mojave.

The first time I really took notice of the desert was under a full moon, and the magic took hold and has never let go.  I was traveling in a sleeping car on the Southwest Chief from L.A. to Chicago, my first night ever on a train. Somewhere between Needles and Kingman I pulled back the curtain, too excited to sleep, and the open desert had been transformed – it looked as if it had been covered in a blanket of snow.  The moonlight illumined the sand to almost white, stars twinkled in an inky blue sky, and dark shadows made intricate shapes on the passing landscape. I’d never seen anything so beautiful and tranquil, and at the same time, intense.  I had a similar reaction the first time I saw van Gogh’s Starry Night.  I’m not a religious person, but this was spiritual.  I stayed at that window till the sun came up.

I’ve since moved to the Mojave, and every full moon, just after sundown, you’ll find me sitting on a boulder with a cup of coffee, the rising moon making a perfect nightlight.  The wind is usually brisk and cool as the night sky presents itself, one star at a time.  Occasionally, a satellite glides past or a meteor races across the sky.  Planes fly high above, and I like to think about who’s up there, what it’s like on Mars and Venus, and what’s on the dark side of the moon.  And then I look far across the valley to the east to Joshua Tree and 29 Palms, and I’m always struck by the vastness and greatness of the desert.  There’s a force that’s undeniable out here, and a feeling that we’re all part of a huge, raucous universe, and the energy from everything and everyone in it is passing through us, carried on the wind.

Each month’s full moon is known by at least one name. Some Indians call the August moon the Red Full Moon because of the hue it takes on a muggy, summer night.  This Friday’s full moon is also known as a Blue Moon, and as you know, it’s not really blue… unless you happen to be looking through a smoky haze.  We won’t see another two-moon month again till 2015, so you might as well step outside and take a look.  And who knows?  You just might be tempted to gaze upon your lover’s face… or feel you can fly!

Words to a Song.

“Blue moon / You saw me standing alone / Without a dream in my heart  / Without a love of my own. /  Blue moon  / You knew just what I was there for /  You heard me saying a prayer for /  Someone I really could care for”.

Although I have photographed many “blue moons” in the desert, this wasn’t one of them. And , as I was told by a astronomer from

the Hadyn Planetarium in New York, it isn’t blue. A  road trip to visit Boron CA, in December of 08.. I think. They had said the Moon was

going to be 13% bigger due to it’s perigee to the earth. We visited a great little hamburger joint called the Barrel. I had discovered it on a previous trip,

and really enjoy the BEST burger in America. In October of 2007, I actually flew the snowman and lights out, decorated the place and

shot it for the studio Christmas card that year. So after dining on  some exquisite meat and buns, we headed back to “The Tree”

The “Zen” takes place.

The road leading out of town, to intersect Rte 58, cuts across a moderate flat plain of grass and Joshua trees. The hi-way is in the distance,

made apparent only by the trucks  rising out of the desert. As I was approaching the end of the road and I remember this

vividly, I saw this ever so faint sliver of orange peeking out from behind the earth. Stop or don’t stop. But once again, before I could finish that thought,

the car had rolled to a halt, I was retrieving the equipment from the trunk, and making my way out into the grass. A 135mm lens with a 1.4 teleconverter.

And there in all it’s 13% glory, before my eyes, the moon. I shot several frames, but this was the one that made it.  To stop or not to stop. The einsteinian

I really “did not know how or why”.

The Question always asked.

How did you get that shot?   There is no photoshop in use here. Simply being in the right spot at the right time, BUT also stopping the car and

getting out. I will never, ever forget this moment. It was other worldly. Silence, dimly broken by the sound of the moonrise.

A coolish winter wind that comes in from the ocean, far enough away to let it warm a bit from the desert floor. And a big ass moon ever so slowly adding

it’s brilliance to the surround landscape. All but a brief moment in time. And I really “did not know how or why”

Quote.

“The intellect has little to do on the road to discovery. There comes a leap in consciousness, call it intuition or what you will, and the solution comes to you and you don’t know how or why.” Albert Einstein

I flew into Las Vegas. I decided to drop down to Joshua Tree, to experience the experience and to see some wonderful friends.

It was a short stay of only 2 days, and the time came to return to Vegas  for the flight east. I set out from the “TREE” , heading out towards the Mojave preserve on Amboy turnpike.

Descending down into the basin leading to Amboy and Roys, I was amazed to sight a traveler with a small dog, making his way in the opposite direction.

The “Zen” takes place.

The camera is in the car. The light is perfect. The winter air is clear. Here is this unique fellow and wonderful dog MILES from anywhere. For a brief moment, I wondered if I should stop. A split second within that

moment told me I would be crazy not to. The man’s name was Alexander.  The dog’s, I think, was Trixie.  A wonderfully noble duo combing the desert landscape. They had walked from Barstow, which is a very far walk.

I have had many compliments on this powerful image. And it was all within that split second of deciding whether or not to stop and turn around… or not. I really “did not know how or why”.

The question alway’s asked.

People  always  ask professionals; “How did you get that shot”?  The answer. We waited, or stopped, or persevered, or added light, or put up with additional obstacles.

So next time, wait, look, listen, stay or go back and perhaps get THAT shot. There is no guarantee. Only the guarantee of not getting it if you continue on. You may not even  know how or why.

I’m looking forward to sharing some interesting elements of what I like to call the “Zen” of photography. Stay tuned.