Wandering Artist's Journal

Pinus monophylla mature cone  For some reason, I’ve grown extremely fond of the scrubby little Nevada state tree, Pinus monophylla, or single needle Piñon Pine.  I first became aware of them after I moved to Reno, when I started eating the pine nuts from these local trees (purchased from a nearby grocery store.) They’re big, fat, delicious, and healthy - it’s no wonder they’ve been a staple of people in the Great Basin for at least 6000 years. But I didn’t actually know what the tree looked like until this month. Since taking up temporary residence in Virginia City, I encounter them daily. While wandering the hills and scanning the ground for rattlesnakes, I’m often stopped by the vanilla-lime scent from the clear, copious sap drippings of a nearby Piñon. Pinus monophylla, in VC cemetery These trees never get huge but the biggest ones around here are mostly about 20ft high (there’s a 30-footer in the cemetery.) The Piñons in these hills are relatively youn...

I’ve been living in Virginia City, Nevada for the last few weeks (a temporary, self-imposed, period of isolation and reflection.) I’m in a little RV, not much bigger than a gypsy wagon. It rocks and creaks in the daily winds, like an anchored boat. Sometimes at night, I partially wake and think I hear rigging, clanging on a mast. Sure, I’d heard about the “Washoe Zephyr” and neighbors had warned me about “the winds.” But, Seriously? This wind is relentless and almost sentient (demonic.)  Then there’s the humidity, or lack of it (many days in the single digits.) Visitors, and most of mine come from the coast, cannot comprehend the cascade of symptoms that result from a simple lack of moisture. They never drink enough, even when they think they are. And then there’s the altitude, and the UV index, and the unique personalities that are drawn to inhabit this strangely beautiful spot. But I’m going to save those for another day.  I’m thinking of starting up the...