Image credit: KEITH HENRY BROWN

Summer 2026

Stars, Sand & Scorpions

By Keith Henry Brown
Summer 2026: Stars, Sand & Scorpions

A native New Yorker takes his first trip to the desert.

Comic book image with the following text: I'm a New Yorker through and through. I've lived here all my life. I think in terms of streets, buildings and noise. But last summer, I somehow found myself in the desert of southern California. As I drove toward Joshua Tree National Park, I was struck by how strange the landscape seemed...it felt like a city. Only this city was made of vegetation and rocks instead of concrete and steel. I rented a small Airstream and set up camp just outside the small town also called Joshua Tree. At first, a lone in the desert, I was terrified. It was broiling, and the terrain seemed hostile.
Comic book image with the following text: I knew there were creepy-crawly creatures everywhere. And coyotes. Every sound made me jump. But as time went on, I slowly began to lower my guard. I spent time a lone outside the Airstream listening to the wind. Hiking through the heat, I started to appreciate the profound quiet. I could hear the skittering of small desert animals such as hissing snakes...slow-moving tortoises...watchful lizards...and...roadrunners! Having grown up watching the cartoon, I was fascinated by how closely the real thing resembled its brightly colored, animated counterpart. Where the hell were they going in such a rush?
I was surprised to discover that I liked being so far away from everything. I could see that the desert was a live in subdued, beautiful ways. And the towering mountains in the distance were incredible. Something about this place pulled me inward. The warmth of the air, the stillness, the boundlessness. I felt like I was in the belly of something ancient. As a Buddhist and a spiritual person, I found it especially easy to meditate in the desert. of course I missed creature comforts, but something held me there. The desert felt even more real than what I usually think of as reality. There’s only so much quietude a Brooklynite can handle. The internet was mostly nil, but I managed to create a contemplative soundtrack of Nick Cave, Miles Davis and the scores from Sergio Leone films.
One night, I headed into the national park after the sun had set. Standing atop a surreal rock formation, I looked out over what felt like an endless panorama of boulders, cacti and, of course, the iconic Joshua trees. Even in near darkness, I could make out their outstretched arms, Which reminded me of those tube men you see in front of sandwich shops or tire stores. Overhead, the sky was both dark and bright–black as ink, pierced by countless pinholes of light. There were more stars than I had ever seen. I had never known a sky could feel so vast. The darkness, surprisingly, didn't frighten me. I found myself reflecting on everything back home and everything still ahead of me. I wish everyone could visit a place like this, where the noise of everyday life subsides, and you can pause, breathe and simply be.
Eventually, I returned to Brooklyn. My memory of the extraordinary experiences I’d had in the desert started to fade, and I quickly fell back into my regular busy life. In fact, I didn't open my suitcase for nearly a month after arriving home. One night, I finally opened my luggage, and suddenly something stung me. At first, I didn't know what it was. Then I saw it. A small scorpion had slipped into my suitcase and traveled to New York with me! I called the local poison center – something I hadn’t even known existed. The nice person on the phone told me I would probably be fine. Scorpion stings are rarely dangerous. But the sting reminded me of something. That the place I thought felt like a dream...was real. And a living piece of it had followed me home. The desert hadn't left me after all.


About the author

  • Keith Henry Brown Contributor

    Keith Henry Brown is a Brooklyn-based author, illustrator and visual artist whose work spans comics, fine art and children's books. Known for his bold mixed-media style, he was creative director for Jazz at Lincoln Center and has created many album covers. He is the illustrator of the kids' books “Birth of the Cool,” "Because of you, John Lewis," "My Dad is a DJ," and "Pushing Hope," a graphic novel about the Central Park Five. His new book, "Postcards from Malcolm X," written by Mia Wenjen, will be published in October 2026.

    Read more by Keith Henry Brown
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This article appeared in the Summer 2026 issue

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