On Saturday, Tyler and I decided to visit The Living Desert and Gardens in Palm Springs. It had been recommended to us a couple of times since our arrival. Because it was a Saturday, there were a lot of families with children who were quite excited to be out and about. At times I longed for a little quiet, but it is a beautiful, well funded zoo, so if you ever travel there, I do recommend visiting.
When we finally decided that we had seen just about every creature we possibly could, we returned to the car to discover that the back window was shattered. Tyler called a couple of places to see if there was a chance the glass could be replaced that day. However, those who actually answered the call said the glass would need to be ordered, and that could take days.
As we drove back to Desert Hot Springs, we pondered our choices. We could change our plans and leave Sunday. We could stay an extra day or two and wait for the glass to be delivered and installed. Or we could simply leave Monday as planned. Ultimately, we decided to leave Monday, knowing that rain was headed to the Bay Area later that day.
We talked about visiting a UCC church in Palm Springs on Sunday. However, I decided that what I really wanted to do was take a walk in the local neighborhood and try to understand it a little better. Tyler went off in search of duct tape in case we needed to secure the large plastic bags that the hotel gave us to try to protect our things from any rain.
As I began my walk, I initially discovered nothing new. This area that I will call downtown because we never came across anything else that looked close to what one might call downtown, was not thriving. I did pass by a storefront Latino Pentecostal church whose doors were closed, but I could hear them singing, "When the Saints Go Marching In" in a combination of Spanish and English, accompanied by a drummer. Across the street was a large Catholic church building. Their parking lot did appear to be full. I also passed by a couple of other church buildings that had locked doors and empty parking lots.
At this point I turned left and began walking back to the hotel. In a couple of blocks I was stunned to discover the remains of a spa whose broken sign read something like "Sahara Resort and Spa". One of the women who worked at the hotel where we stayed mentioned that there was a spa that had been so vandalized by the homeless that it was being torn down. I was certain I had found that spa, although I do not think the homeless were the only ones at fault.
There was rubbish everywhere. The pools were filled, not with healing water, but with graffiti and trash. Windows were smashed and fences were broken. Almost all the walls that had not been torn down were scrawled with graffiti. It really was like peering into a war zone. On one wall, near the entrance was what was probably the original map of the property. I learned that there had once been a chapel on the property. I could not tell in which building it had been located, but I sensed it may have been on the second floor, maybe next to a room that was blocked off with an unhinged wooden door, slightly askew. On it were large bold black printed words: "I still live here. Keep out." I felt no invitation to do otherwise.
It was in the moment of reading that a chapel had been present, that I felt I was seeing not just vandalism, but desecration. I took no pictures; I picked up nothing. I simply prayed, and then left. As I walked down the street towards the hotel, I looked down and saw a rock that was roughly in the shape of a heart. I paused for a moment to take it in. This stone was not carved; over time it simply turned into the general shape of a heart. I felt more than heard the words, "Let the earth speak." What I will do with those words I do not know, but I think these three posts were in response to that request. I know that the earth and her water, her plants, and her creatures are struggling to live. They are not putting up signs to keep out, but perhaps giving us ones that say, "Tread lightly. Listen to the ancestors. Learn your place in all of this. We know that you, too, are struggling."
These are words I can take to heart.
No comments:
Post a Comment