Desert Skies: 2011 Calendar
Given that my last photo calendar was a critically acclaimed success, with sales in excess of a dozen copies, I’ve decided to put one together for the coming year, which I am given to understand has been designated “2011.”
I’ve decided to collect a dozen plus one (the cover) of my images featuring one of the most obvious but not-always-remarked-on features of the desert: that great inverted bowl we call “the sky.”
You can purchase a copy of this calendar here. For that matter, you can purchase large quantities of the calendar here as well.
You can also leaf through a low-res version of the calendar at that page, and plus! You can see (and even buy high-quality prints of, should you wish) higher-res versions of the relevant images each on their own page: January,
February,
March,
April,
May,
June,
July,
August,
September,
October,
November, and
December.
I confess October is a special favorite of mine, though officially I love them all equally.
Red Rock Sepia
Red Rock Canyon State Park, California, January 1 2010
I’m sifting through photos to find good candidates for the 2011 Calendar — “Desert Skies” being the theme — and I’m not using this one, because the highlights are just too blown out. But I loved the sepia quality of the landscape, so I thought I’d share.
One day in Searchlight
So I was sitting in Searchlight, Nevada at the Nugget, talking to the bartender, and this guy comes in with a big fat Labrador retriever, walks up to the bar. He says to the bartender, “My dog wants to buy a round for the house.”
The bartender gives him the hairy eyeball, then looks at the dog. The dog wags his tail happily, then barks. Bartender says “We don’t run tabs. Your dog’ll have to pay up front.” You know, thinking he’s called the guy’s bluff.
But the guy leans over the dog, slides his collar around — which I suddenly notice has huge gems on it, rubies and emeralds set in gold — zips open a compartment and pulls out a small roll of thousand-dollar bills. He peels one off, hands it to the bartender, and puts the rest back into the dog collar. The house gets a round while the waitress runs over to the casino teller to get change.
Dog comes over to me, and I pet him for a second, the man watching me closely — making sure I don’t pocket the collar, most likely. I look up at him and start to ask but he cuts me off. “Why’s my dog so rich, right? That’s what you wanna know?” I nod.
He takes a sip of the beer the bartender hands him, sets it back on the bar. “Couple years back I was heading to Vegas on Route 95. It was only about ten am, but it was already hot as hell, 120 degrees. I’m doing maybe 65, not in any hurry and right around the turnoff to Laughlin I see this guy, skinny as a rail, running back and forth in the desert all confused. I figure he’s lost and he’s sure as hell gonna die by afternoon so I pull over, back up about a hundred yards to where I saw him. When I get out of the car he comes charging up to me, whimpering and crying, scared out of his wits. No collar, no tags, nothing.”
“Someone dumped him there?” I ask.
“Yeah, probly. Anyway, I’m in no position to take care of a dog, you see — lived in a trailer back then, no room — so I get my cell phone and call animal control. I tell them I found this guy and can they come get him.
“The woman on the phone asks if I’m sure he doesn’t belong to a neighbor or something, so I say ‘Look, lady, there’s nothing out here but tortoises and creosote. He’s in the middle of the desert, he has no idea what he’s doing out here, and he just clearly doesn’t belong.’” He shakes his head, takes another long swig off the beer.
“So what happened?” I ask, a little impatiently.
He wipes his mouth on his sleeve, swallows. “Feds gave him a two billion dollar solar grant.”
As befits the Dia De Los Muertos
I am thinking of, and missing, some who have passed.
My mother’s mother, especially poignantly for some reason this last month, and the love of her life.
The love of my life (four-foot division):
Jonathan “Basketball Jonathan” Montague, a street fixture for decades in Berkeley and a frequent visitor at the Ecology Center.
Bill Stack, who took me in as a teenage drifter and taught me how to play guitar.
The two tortoises killed so far by construction at the Ivanpah SEGS site.
Judi.
My elders in the political and activist world: Jake Kramer, Charlie Haynie, Ed Powell, David Brower, Hazel Wolf, Harriet Allen, Frank Cedervall, Dave Dellinger, Igal Roodenko, Jim Peck, Mitch Snyder.
No grandiose conclusion here, except that I am privileged to have known them all and more than them, and I am grateful, and I wish that I could talk with them again.
BrightSource, Center for Biological Diversity make pact
As the bulldozers roll, energy developer BrightSource and the Center for Biological Diversity announce they have reached an agreement.
For Immediate Release, October 22, 2010
Contact:
Kierán Suckling, Center for Biological Diversity, (520) 275-5960
Kristin Hunter, BrightSource Energy, (415) 281-7161Center for Biological Diversity and BrightSource Commit to Desert Protections
TUCSON, Ariz.— The Center for Biological Diversity and BrightSource Energy, Inc. reached an agreement today to provide additional protections for the desert tortoise and other rare species affected by the Ivanpah Solar Electric Generating System project in the Mojave Desert.
Under the terms of the agreement, BrightSource will arrange for the acquisition and/or enhancement of thousands of acres of desert tortoise and other desert habitat. The specific lands identified for acquisition and/or enhancement will be made public when agreements are completed with the willing sellers.
“This agreement will provide important additional protections for the desert tortoise and other sensitive species in the area affected by this project, above and beyond what was required by the state and federal agencies that recently approved it,” said Kierán Suckling, executive director of the Center, which will receive no money or other compensation from the agreement.
“With world-class sun and rich biological diversity, the Mojave Desert is a vital resource to California and our nation,” said John Woolard, President and CEO of BrightSource Energy. “From the start of this project, we have focused on reducing its impact by implementing an environmentally responsible technology. We’re pleased to work with the Center to enhance the project by ensuring additional protections for desert tortoise and other habitat.”
Following a three year permitting process, the U.S. Department of the Interior and the State of California approved the 370-megawatt project earlier this month. The project entails approximately 3,500 acres of public land in San Bernardino County.
“The desert tortoise is an irreplaceable member of the Mojave Desert ecosystem that has been struggling to survive for decades against an onslaught of threats ranging from loss of habitat, cattle grazing, off-road vehicles, disease, and now, the effects of global warming. Today’s agreement will provide the tortoise significant additional relief,” said Suckling.
BrightSource and the Center agree that the California and Nevada desert ecosystems are nationally important and must be better managed and protected. The Center and BrightSource are committed to working to ensure that future utility-scale solar projects are sited thoughtfully to avoid conflict and achieve the mutual goals of preserving species habitat, meeting the need for climate protection, and rapidly transitioning the U.S. away from fossil fuels.
Right now at Ivanpah
Just now at Ivanpah. Protesters from Desert Survivors bear witness as the ecocidal machinery heads for the Ivanpah SEGS site. Laura Cunningham photo.






