"The wind will not stop. Gusts of sand swirl before me, stinging my face. But there is still too much to see and marvel at, the world very much alive in the bright light and wind, exultant with the fever of spring, the delight of morning. Strolling on, it seems to me that the strangeness and wonder of existence are emphasized here, in the desert, by the comparative sparsity of the flora and and fauna: life not crowded upon life as in other places but scattered abroad in spareness and simplicity, with a generous gift of space for each herb and bush and tree, each stem of grass, so that the living organism stands out bold and brave and vivid against lifeless sand and barren rock. The extreme clarity of the desert light is equaled by the extreme individuation of desert life forms. Love flowers best in openness and freedom."
-- Edward Abbey, DESERT SOLITAIRE (frontspiece)

On the night of my first visit to this little patch of desert (a mere three acres in the midst of the endless landscape) it was the Full Moon before Easter. The whole landscape was brightly lit up as if I were on the surface of the moon, the circles of small ground hugging cacti were like small meteor craters. Dry arroyos surrounded me. The earth reflected the moon almost perfectly... a moon facing the moon... off in the far distance, the mesas were like lunar mountains... It was as if I was not only viewing the full moon but walking on the lunar surface itself.

The planet Mars shone brightly in the sky that night. Months later the Martian probes sent pictures back of the Martian surface. I was amazed at the incredible similarities between the views by day of the land in Sun Valley and the Martian panoramas. The soil the same color. The mesas off in the distance... the beautiful barreness... all Mars needs is a few cacti to be the twin of my land.