San Pedro River in Sonoran Desert, Arizona: A Moment on the Oasis

There's something magical, almost spiritual about leaving the outside world behind and entering a shady river valley on a spring day. You aren't alone, but you are secluded, sheltered from the stress and cares of everyday life. The trail is quiet. You pass people you don't know--other hikers, bird enthusiasts on the hunt for a rare find, a family showing their children the joys of the outdoors.

You say nothing to these people, not because they are strangers and you aren't supposed to talk to strangers. You say nothing because you do not want to break the perfect silence that surrounds you. This desire is mutual; those you pass will return your smile with a nod, perhaps a barely audible "hello". Beyond that the only sound is the crunch of your feet against the leaves on the trail.

You leave the path and find a grassy clearing by the side of the river. You sit and absorb your surroundings. The warm sunlight filters through the ancient trees. You know, 100 yards behind you, the trees abruptly end and the landscape opens up into a flat, rather barren field of tumbleweeds and mole hills, stark and ugly against the sky. None of that matters to you in this place. The air is cool and damp against your skin. The water flows by, making its way over fallen logs and rocks, hurrying on to some unknown destination beyond the bend of the river. This is the only motion you detect.

Everything else is still, suspended in time. You lay back on the bank and close your eyes, reveling in the serene silence, not worrying about bugs or mud or grass in your hair, things you would have cared about in the outside world. Slowly, gradually, almost so you don't notice a change, you start to realize that your new world is far from silent. Along with the bubbling and babbling of the river, you hear birds calling, rustling in the bushes, flapping their wings as they leave their perch to catch a bug floating delicately over the water. And the bugs, you hear them leaping in the grass, chirping and clicking and buzzing.

Somewhere off to your left you hear something, much larger than a bug, probably a mouse, making its way down to the water's edge for a drink. You hear the wind in the trees, and you realize the air is as still as can be where you are. You open your eyes and see that there is more motion in this place than you could have imagined. Far above you, the tree branches wave in a draft of air, causing the patchy sunlight here on the ground to dance.

The clouds race silently by, making you feel like you are in a bubble and that stepping out of the sanctuary of these woods would cause you to blow away in the wild storms of the outside world. Your eyes are drawn away from this dramatic scene above you by the flutter of a flock of birds flying by, and you see the gnats performing their waltz suspended over the water of the river. This meandering stream tumbling over rocks and logs offers much more motion to the scene than at first glance as well. The headlong rush over the rocks and logs gives way to a calm, undisturbed pool.

Upon closer inspection, you see that below the unbroken surface the algae and other water plants are being battered around in the current. Bits of debris, leaves and bark, whirl around and are carried downstream. Right beside you, a small moth is caught up in a spider's web, the owner of which is close on hand, waiting for lunch to tire before closing in.

You leave the spider to her meal and head back to the trail. Unwilling to leave your perfect world behind quite yet, you make your way slowly toward the tree line, taking in a last glance at the ancient thicket and the busy river. As you step from the shaded, cool woods into the harsh sunlight, you feel complete and full of wonder at the details of the scene you just witnessed. Your wonder and awe give way to a quiet sense of peace and the details fade as the bright light warms you. The world you just left behind fades into the sleepy, half-remembered musings of a dream.

Author's Note:
The San Pedro Riparian National Conservation Area is a length of about 40 miles of the San Pedro River, stretching from St. David, Arizona to the Mexican border. This fragile ecosystem, one of the most biologically diverse areas in the country, supports hundreds of species of birds, more than 80 mammals, two native species of fish, and more than 40 species of amphibians and reptiles. I encourage you to learn about the threats to this area and how you can help protect it, ensuring that everyone can experience the beauty that this river has to offer for many years to come. The Friends of the San Pedro River organize hikes and trail rides, along with providing conservation information about the river. Check out their website at www.sanpedroriver.org for more information.