Melancholy mixed with tears covered the man’s face as he made his way through the desert, racing the setting sun. An oasis of chollas appear before him, a giant cluster of prickly beauty, seemingly unreal.
He walks into the garden of cacti in a dream-like state of mind. A drum circle of young hipsters chants rhythmically. A young girl looks up, her eyes pierce his soul from her hand knit beanie.
The moon pulls out the strangest of emotions, the truest of colors lying within each of us, waiting to explode with indignant rage, in the Cholla Gardens of Joshua Tree.