The Super Bloom Spectacle

Every year people from all over the world flock to one of many “super blooms” in California,  when a blanket of wildflowers covers many areas of the state. Each region has its respective peak months, but the prime time to go tends to be between March and early April. The vibrancy of the super bloom is dependent on plentiful winter rainfall, and with recent droughts in California, not every year has presented the same spectacle of blooms.

Last March, I took a trip to Los Angeles and Joshua Tree with my dear friend. As I was packing I thought that the freedom of a dress would be exactly the outfit for the California spring weather. I figured it would be a perfect time to give my Rowena Swing Dress a spin.

Everytime I visit California, I seem to leave with a newfound feeling of inspiration. I return with my “California lenses” on, informing how I look at the world. Little did we know we were in for one of the most vivid super blooms that California had seen in years.

We spent two nights in L.A., staying at my family friends’ hillside home in the Eastside neighborhood of Silver Lake. Plenty of modernist architecture, orange trees, and lots of winding steep hills to walk up. We strolled through museums and browsed open-air markets. We read at Echo Park, my favorite park in L.A., where at any second you feel you could stumble upon a film star. Later, I went for a walk in the Echo Park neighborhood and ogled at the historic houses full of character, daydreaming they were mine to return to at the end of the day. 

A few days later, we rented a car and started to drive east. Our first stop was Landers, where we paused at the Integratron. The Integratron’s signature experience is a public sound bath, where you rest wrapped in blankets while a person plays quartz crystal bowls at different frequencies. They say that “sound is nutrition for the nervous system,” and it really feels that way as you’re lying in the all-wood dome structure. I laid below a large skylight, feeling the sunshine radiate on me. It was pure bliss. We left feeling energetically restored, at peace, and a little lighter on our feet.

Entering the park, you want to make sure that you know where you’re going and have plenty of water on board, because there’s no cell reception. The park rangers definitely spooked us into making sure we were equipped. Truth is, it isn’t dangerous, but it’s always good to be over prepared when you’re in a big national park in the desert. 

As we drove through the park, I was stunned at how many varied landscapes we passed. I was expecting nothing but the gnarled and spiky succulents that most people associate with the park, but the further south we drove, the more vibrant the scenery became. Even in the arid climate, signs of life were boundless. I was surprised by how much it resembled our utopian backyard, the Columbia River Gorge, during wildflower season. We spent most of our time in the car listening to podcasts, until we found a spot in the park that we wanted to get out and explore. 

Soon enough, we encountered endless fields of wildflowers. The superbloom! We had made it. The yellow and purple flowers were especially lively, doing their little dances in the wind. There was a lot of yellow, and a lot of purple: we saw yellow brittlebush, purple lupine, bright yellow desert sunflowers, soft yellow evening primrose, and violet bluebells. To be honest I couldn’t identify half of these flowers before my trip, but our Airbnb came with a little guide that helped us become more flower-literate. After wading through the flowers, we found a nice spot to rest and have a picnic. We had packed sandwiches that we bought at Joshua Tree’s best smoothie spot in town. We noshed on our picnic lunch, soaked up the sun, and pulled cards from a tarot deck.

At the north entrance to Joshua Tree National Park we rented an Airbnb in Twentynine Palms, a cozy and architecturally stunning mid-century cabin nestled in the desert. One night we had a visitor: a coyote who climbed on top of our roof, most likely in search of small prey. The next morning we found tracks in the sand and recalled the disruptive sounds from the night before. The visit from the coyote reminded us that we were a long way from home, yet we felt a sense of protection from the house and the surrounding environment. 

Upon arriving at our Airbnb, we immediately queued up Steely Dan’s Can’t Buy a Thrill on the record player, one of the many records that comes with the house. The contagious song, “Dirty Work,” quickly became our trip’s theme song, the melodic chords filling the desert abode. We sang this particular song everywhere we went (we’re still singing it!). The landscape was a blend of low and high desert, a mosaic of earthy colors. When the sun set every night we experienced a stillness, unlike anything we had ever experienced before. 

There were so many other highlights of being in Joshua Tree. We visited the poignant Noah Purifoy Outdoor Desert Air Museum, caught an open mic night at the famous Pappy & Harriet’s in Pioneertown, where old Western movies were filmed in back in the day, and each selected a special herbal tincture at Grateful Desert Apothecary to bring home.  

My time in California last spring surpassed my expectations tenfold. The power of travel is not to be overlooked. I don’t think I realized how nourishing, healing, and peaceful the desert can really be. We felt so at ease in our little home in the desert, not having anywhere to be.

On our last day, we were lazing around the backyard in our hammocks sans agenda, when a woman came by with her granddaughter. We learned that her parents used to own the house, and that she had spent a portion of her childhood living there. She showed us the trees her mother had planted, still standing tall and proud today. She kept telling us how grateful she was that we had taken the time to let her into what was “our home” for the time being. We told her that we felt a deep connection to the house, and hoped we could return at some point. Hearing about the history of the house made us feel even closer to it, something we didn’t know was possible.