Every seven years, or so, the spring temperatures, the amount rainfall and its timing, work together, to create a spectacular desert blooming. This year is being called a “super bloom.”
We had been a few days at the hot springs, when a friend, who had been out taking pictures, stopped in for the afternoon for a soak She told us of the occurrence. Leaving Monday, we decided to take the long way home and see what it was about.
Leaving about 1:30, we are off for a four hour drive. Having been nude three or four days, we leave, staying the same. Clothing doesn’t make much sense anymore, not after that long without.
The road up to Globe passes through the San Carlos Indian Reservation. That’s where the show begins in earnest. There are patches of yellow flowers in the desert fields along the road.
Suddenly, a field of yellow Arizona poppies shows, glowing in their florescence.
Like a carpet amongst the creosote forest, more begin to show themselves.
Then, miles in the distance, these large patches of bloom can be seen, climbing mountains and painting the floors of valleys.
Along the road, we see a plethora of colors, blue lupines, deep orange mallow, mixes of purple, white, blue, magenta and then again, masses of these glowing poppies.
We take a brief stop to buy ice for our cooler, which houses the unused food and I grab a Soda for a treat. We have to throw on some covering in the parking lot to go in the small dollar store, which is the dominate business in this tiny group of houses, which lay out away from any significant populations. I first park at the side of the building out of the way to dress. DF sees a camera that looks more like a down spout. My mind pictures the cashier inside with the video screen behind, busy, while customers in line are entertained, watching us. We circle back out front. Being hidden by car doors and being quick will make do.
The clothing comes off more quickly, before we pull away and drive down the road.
We begin to look for places to pull off and explore these flowers closer. We are on a Native American reservation. The law is in a different context, unknown essentially to us. With nothing assured, we are vigilant how to pick the best place and not get bothered by any potential objections to a lack of clothing.
We finally settle on an exposed turnoff, but with a magnificent display of color. The traffic ebbs and flows, a gap alone and then a string of cars flies past at 70mph. It is just too much trouble to remain nude. Vigilance distracts full attention to this experience. I wrap around a kilt and DF slips her handy Hawaiian print sundress over her head.
We give carnuding another try, until we I discover another turn off. It also has a dirt road leading “somewhere” on the other side of the two lane highway.
Getting out, the car door is pushing back at me by the wind trying to slam it. There is a front coming in. The predicted winds will be up to 55 mph. Today, the high is 80F, by tomorrow, it will drop to 50F!
My kilt is billowing out and up. After DF informs me that I am flashing the passing traffic, I have to hold it in place when the cars pass.
The wind is creating a wonderful shimmer amongst the multitudes of flowers. They glimmer in the sun, like glittering fluorescent yellow and orange crystals.
It is all around us. It is compelling and gorgeous.
Wonderment takes us across the highway and up the dirt side road.
In-between packs of traffic, I slip the kilt off and on, interacting with the wind, playing a game of nudity in stealth. The air feels terrific.
The vistas, the color, the movement and masses, make me want to just stand there, watch all day and never leave. We do leave, we must. Still we will hope for more of this very special natural event.
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What beauty! Thank you.