Samir Shukla
By Samir Shukla
I know you have had that feeling. Everyone has at one time or another. A feeling of being small. This realization hits when we think about our place in the greater cosmos. This happens when you place yourself in the unfathomable vastness of nature.
Think of those moments hiking in an old growth forest filled with huge trees or sitting by the seaside where half of the planet seems filled with water, it could happen while perched on a hilltop looking down on an endless valley, or maybe lying in a large field gazing up at a clear, twinkling sky. These are some moments where we feel our smallness.
Humans think themselves to be the masters of this planet, but we are like all life forms when seen and taken as individuals in the greater environment, which is basically we are miniscule.
The grand vistas of nature often have the power of making humans feel insignificant, but at the same time, for those who widen their thinking and being, an aura of spirituality, interconnectedness, and aliveness can bloom. You are a part of this grand thing.
The vastness of nature and the cosmos make sure to keep us humble. Well, ok, most of us.
This thought, of being tiny, happened again on a recent trip, when we were sauntering about in Death Valley National Park. During the hikes and the strolls through this vastness, I imagined being one of the grains of sand in the dunes that could be blown away any moment at the slightest breeze.
You realize that you may even be one of those distant shimmering mirages that appear and disappear in the desert heat. At first sight the park seems like a barren desert, a dead wasteland, ah, but look deeper and it is full of life. So many types of plants and animals live here.
Death Valley is alive.
We visited the park, tucked away in the southeast corner of California, in November, even then the temperature was toasty in this one of the hottest places on Earth.
Summertime temperatures in Death Valley can approach 130˚ Fahrenheit. That is a deadly level of heat not for the faint of heart. A local told us that people visit the park in the summer for a day just to experience the heat.
There are many unique segments or ecosystems in the park – sand dunes, salt flats, hills, even snow dusted high elevations. There are also resorts and lodgings inside the park. The park’s basin is below sea level. Rain is rare, but when it comes, locals tell tales of fields of wildflowers coming to life. I can imagine splotches of colors in the desert canvas. There are also what may be called oases that offer refuge to wildlife. Moisture, what little there is, lurks in unexpected places.
The point is that it is a lot less desolate and stark than the name denotes. The park’s name may create dark imagery, but the story is rather filled with light and life. Fallen desert trees lay almost in the same condition for years as there is little moisture to initiate decay. Desert creatures find ways to use this shelter.
When there are no other people around, stillness and quiet envelopes you.
What I thought when we finished our trip there was that the park was misnamed. This place should be renamed Life Valley National Park. There is plenty of wildlife there, while the varied geometries of the vistas along with the stillness and solitude ignite a reaffirmation of life, no matter how miniscule we may seem.
I had this feeling of being utterly alive and connected with the surroundings in the sizzling afternoon sun and in the cool evenings. It wasn’t just about being in this stark wildness, visiting, hiking, taking pictures, and then moving on. I wanted to linger for a longer period. Walk in the cool sand in the evenings while the air is heavy and as night falls, gaze at a clear sky filled with the distant shining gems of the visible universe.
No photograph can mimic the in-person experience and views of this place.
All national parks we have visited evoke these feelings of being a part of something awesome. They are the treasures of our country, open to all.
Death Valley National Park is yet another. Standing in the midst of such a dry, desolate place, life is a better word that comes to mind.
Samir Shukla is the Editor of Saathee Magazine
Contact: samir@saathee.com
X: @ShuklaWrites
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