The Hunter’s Moon
After a Sunday morning sound bath in Joshua Tree, my sister, her friend, and I went in search of brunch. Joshua Tree has a tiny downtown area with a handful of restaurants which meant long lines wherever we went.
We placed panini orders at a corner cafe whose line was moving along the fastest. Instead of standing around waiting for our food, we walked the two-block radius of the business district, scoping out the shops before heading back with our takeout to our Airbnb.
It was refreshingly relaxing under the covered patio, a much appreciated refuge from the afternoon heat. The large yard was composed of desert sand, a tree with a hammock, and a dead Joshua tree on the opposite corner. Since my sister’s friend couldn’t take Monday off, she only had a few more hours to spend with us. I decided to bring out the tiny carrot cake I had bought at Ralph’s to celebrate my sister’s birthday before we went on a hike. I was worried that her friend wouldn’t want to visit the national park because it really was a scorcher. But she was a good sport and agreed to a 1-mile loop trail since she had never been.
We searched for easy and quick hikes in Joshua Tree and Barker Dam was on the list. It was a simple hike that would normally take an hour to complete but with my sister in tow, you had to add at least another 30 minutes for all the stalling she did trying to capture the perfect shots. The park entrance fee was $30 for a week but we should have bought the annual pass for $50. I drove about 10 miles to get from the main highway to the entrance kiosk and probably another 10 miles to get to the hike of the day. We received a map at the gate and signs were posted everywhere so it was nearly impossible to get lost as long as you stayed on the paths.
The trail was very pebbly at the beginning, making it feel like we were walking on sand. But the sky was shimmering and the photo opts were inevitable.
It was hot. I was sweaty. But I was loving it. I hadn’t been one with nature since March when I went to Sedona. But Joshua Tree reminded me of Death Valley because, well, they are both deserts. The gravel roads and trails, the heat, the clear bright blue sky, the serenity, the quietness, the chance to utilize all of my senses: the breeze under my arms, the sight of monarch butterflies fluttering above our heads, the sound of birds, chipmunks, and lizards scurrying under bushes, the taste of sweat on my upper lip, and that calming scent that only emanates from nature’s foliage.
When the entrance was in sight again, we stepped off the trail. My sister wanted to put into practice what the sound bath guide had taught us: choose a spot in the sky and stare at it for five minutes so you can try to open your third eye. We didn’t have our heads tilted back a minute before we started seeing the white specks the sound bath leader said we would. But the process was neck-breaking so we got in the car in need of a refresher.
We sipped smoothies outside a cafe before we drove back to the Airbnb. My sister’s friend packed her car and began the sad drive back to L.A. My sister and I changed into warmer bottoms so we could catch the sunset and the infamous Joshua Tree starry night.
The sun was setting as I drove into the park. I pulled over on the side of the road to catch the last glimpse of the wondrous sun that had bathed us during our morning sound bath and afternoon hike. Now it was another giant star’s turn to shine.
I drove to the Hidden Valley hiking trail but it was still too early to catch sight of any stars. Even if we could, the amount of mosquitoes enveloping us, buzzing around our heads, made it a miserable site. We walked around a group of boulders some folks were rock climbing just to stretch our legs and I got bitten three times… on my face! The mosquitoes literally chased us out.
Back behind the wheel, I continued down the main road without a destination. My sister had the foldable map opened on her lap. She named several stops but I kept missing turns because my headlights reflected the signs too late. I finally caught sight of the marker for Key Views and made the right turn.
We chatted during the 20–30 minute drive to the lookout point. I cursed and tailgated slow drivers following the speed limits, signs posted so as to not run over tortoises and whatnot. We kept our eyes out for kangaroo rats and foxes, which we’d seen in previous visits. Driving in complete darkness, other than the road lit by my headlights, reminded us of one of the first times we were in Joshua Tree. I had been driving my Jeep which, perhaps for its height and nearly 90-degree window, caught a lot of dead bugs on the windshield. We had become accustomed to listening to the splats hitting the glass every couple of seconds until it turned into a thump. I recalled seeing glow-in-the-dark eyes coming towards me slightly to the left of my car until it crashed into my rearview mirror. We screeched. And then we felt terrible. We initially thought I had killed an owl but it could have also been a bat. We never knew what it was but we’d always have a story to tell.
Memory of Key Views also came back to me as soon as I reached the parking lot. It had been a trip in December before the holiday break, and the lookout point had been the windiest spot in all of Joshua Tree, making it impossible to stay upright, much less walk. But that Sunday night Key Views was the perfect summer/fall location for all of us tourists chasing sunsets. The lot was full, and I didn’t even notice the moon until I got off my car.
I didn’t realize it was a full moon until I started walking the path to the lookout point with a view of the valley in the direction of Palm Springs. The amount of light emanating from the moon illuminated the u-shaped walkway and rocks as if it were an eclipse.
Since the sun had already set, cars trailed each other towards the exit. With only a handful of folks left, it was easy to feel like I was on top of the world.
My eyes didn’t have to adjust to the darkness at Key Views because it didn’t exist. The Palm Desert/Palm Springs valley looked so beautiful in the distance against the last of the sunset. The way the rock formations created shadows reminded me of Zabriskie Point in Death Valley. Stars above and lights twinkling below. Nature and man-made. All intertwined. The world was full of wonderment.
I was taking pictures all around me when it hit me: there was a full moon. I had already acknowledged its presence but not its role in my mystical weekend.
Just twenty-four hours before, I had bought a moonstone ring at the night market. It had provoked a lucid dream of me flying over Joshua Tree. And earlier that morning, I had participated in a sound bath where the teacher had told me I had found my third eye after seeing the color blue during my meditation.
And now here I was, face to face with a full moon. It seemed to be the most obvious missing component of my spiritual weekend. I miraculously had phone service and Googled “Full Moon 2022.” A list of the year’s full moons came up and I found that the next one was scheduled for October 9, 2022. It was October 9, 2022. My jaw dropped. I also learned that the full moon in October was called the Hunter’s Moon because, “according to the Old Farmer’s Almanac…that moon occurs when the season for hunting…begins.”
I walked over to Jackie and told her how all of the spiritual coincidences I had encountered that weekend continued to have connections to each other. It had all started with the moonstone ring I bought on the eve of a full moon. That same night, I dreamt I was flying over Joshua Tree when I spotted an injured rabbit. The rabbit’s lower half was covered in blood, and I asked the invisible entity in control of my superpower if the bunny had been in a rumble. The voice said he had been hunted and directed my line of vision to a puddle of blood, where the attack had occurred. The animal in my dream had also been hunted on the eve of a Hunter’s Moon.
My entire being felt light and giddy with happiness. I felt like fate/destiny/the Gods had finally chosen to enlighten me and I could not stop smiling. Every single experience I had come across that weekend — whether it be material, spiritual, or natural — linked perfectly with each other like train cars. For the first time in my life, I felt like the world had my back and I was able to let go of control. The moonstone, the sound bath, and the full moon were each a particle that came together to form the necessary spiritual aura to fulfill my soul.
