Una Sierra

    At first glance, the surrounding hills appear to be dotted with scores of dead trees, eerily similar to the wild-fire ravaged forests of the PNW. But upon a closer look, I see that these thing spindly plants are actually hundreds of cacti.

    The Sierra rolls on for miles, barren but blossoming. I could be back in los Padres National Forest right now, nestled behind Santa Barbara, if not for these odd-shaped cacti. The gentle hills give way to steep faced cliffs. Well more precisely, these steep faced cliffs are perched upon these hills, creating dramatic and ethereal plateaus.

    This uninterrupted landscape is, well, interrupted. A pueblito pops up, with terraced farms and a church in the background. But seconds later, that town disappears, and the scenery shifts. This green is lusher, brighter, the dirt, an earthier red. And along we go, south, south and just a little bit more south.