DARK DESERT NIGHT AND A SINGLE POINT OF LIGHT

Originally Published in Western Outdoor News the Week of Dec. 22, 2009


One of the nice things about Baja is that even when you are in a relatively large population areas like say, Cabo San Lucas, Loreto, La Paz or even the East Cape, it doesn't take long to be "away from it all."

A short car ride or even a walk and the "wide open" is never that far. If you can steal away at night, the sound of cars is quickly replaced by a desert breeze that sweeps off the sea. The blaze of lights is now a carpet of stars glittering overhead. That "haze" in the air is the Milky Way.

The smell of exhaust diminishes and now the savory smell of someone perhaps roasting some meat over an open fire wafts up. A dog barks in the distance. Homes become mere pinpoints of light in the distance. The darkness carries the unmistakable sound of an old radio playing "banda" music.

And you're all alone as easy as that. No crowds. No rave music. No hawkers.

When I lived on the East Cape, I would get out quite often and walk up into the hills and peer down on the little pueblo of Cabo Pulmo. At the time, not really more than a dirt road trying to decide if it was for cars or cows. One restaurant. One cafe that was sometimes open. Another cafe that never seemed to be open. Two bars. A lot of pickup trucks; a handful of pangas; and a pack of friendly mismatched dogs.

At night, I would hear laughter from the restaurant and the sound of waves off the beach. And a few warming lights beaming from some of the homes, many without glass windows. Away from the lights, endless mountains and desert darkness.

And I would think how blessed I was to be there at that moment. And I would watch the night-time comings and goings from afar in the dark and just savor the solitude.

As it were, I wandered up there one Christmas night and could hear the laughter of kids down below. And it reminded of another story of a cold chilly desert and a family that looked in afar at another village from a distance because there was no room at the inn.

And another child born in the nighttime desert. Beneath these very same stars that were still shining overhead.

From such simple beginnings came the genesis of perhaps the greatest of stories about a child. A child who grew up and preached peace. And who was able to gather a bunch of fishermen and carry that word of peace throughout the world and down through the ages. No matter your faith, the essence is still a wonderful story.

Whether you believe that story or not, I think God has a special place for fishermen. It is said that God does not count your days against you that you get to spend on the water.

If peace is what he preached, then what better place have so many found it than on the water. It brings family and friends together. It connects us to memories of a lifetime.

Fishing is the universal equalizer in that fish and nature show no favorites. It often reminds us of a greater power and magnificence around us whether we fish the blue oceans or the smallest backyard pond. The universe is revealed in that microcosm.

And we get to play like kids again. Laugh and smile. Be silly. It reminds us to be kids at heart. Like another child born in the desert like Baja so long ago. He grew up to be a carpenter but he later worked some great stories with fish and his best friends were fishermen too!

God bless you and your family for a safe and happy Christmas.








Jonathan Roldan is the Baja Editor of Western Outdoor News and his column appears every other week. He can be reached in La Paz at: riplipboy@tailhunter-international.com