Carrizo Gold: Nature’s Hardest Hue to Hold
Springtime in “California’s Serengeti”
Story and photographs by David Laws
I pulled my jacket close against the chill stirring of an early breeze. A heavy silence enveloped the world in these final, darkest minutes before dawn. To the east, a gray sliver of pending morning peeked from beneath a band of straggling clouds to silhouette the rugged crest of the Temblor Range. Planning a day exploring Carrizo Plain, I had risen early to watch the sunrise from this elevated spot at the northern entrance to the National Monument that has been called “California’s Serengeti.”
From my vantage point on the promontory of Soda Lake Overlook, white mineral deposits bordering water reflected a swelling glow in the east, the first sign of physical landscape in an ocean of darkness. Orange tints, brightening by the minute, injected a promise of color into the neutral gray of the fading night. As the spectrum moved to the red of blood, ragged peaks sharply etched against the horizon slowly, slowly released the tip of a glowing disk. The first rays of sunlight spilled out over the ridgeline into morning.
The newborn flash of green-gold light, immortalized by poet Robert Frost as “nature’s hardest hue to hold,” dissolved into pinks and yellows and reds and blues…
