Palm Springs

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I shot a wedding the other weekend out in the desert and we opted to make a family trip, with hopes that September would bring a hint of relief from the otherwise torturous desert summer heat. It did not. It was the kinda heat that makes every step you take a conscious effort, where every cell within your body feels swollen to it’s capacity. It’s one thing I’ve noticed in all three of my pregnancies now — the inability to tolerate extreme heat; or even the 80 degree days, for that matter. The desert did not hear my plea.

We left much later in the day that we had planned, which is the case when you have kids, isn’t it? I always underestimate the time it takes to fill and package orders and given the fact I had worked in the hospital the day prior, I had not had the time to pack or get organized in the way I’ve learned you must when you’re running a household with children in it. I’ve never been a planner or an organizer and while motherhood has changed that to some extend, I know too well that there are cracks in that front and that my old wait-til’-the-last-minute self often shines through. And because life likes to pay you back in ways that sometimes feel unfair, we ran into standstill traffic that was just enough to make me a bit queasy.

We stopped at a liquor store once we got into Palm Springs and picked up a few essentials, including donuts and sugary cereal, something I blame on sending Willy into the store while the boys and I waited in the air-conditioned car. Come the next morning, no one was complaining about said choices.

Because we rented a home via AirBnb, we left Jimmie back home which allowed us the freedom to check out The Living Desert; something we always wanted to check out with the boys but never got to since most of our trips to the desert are with Jimmie in tow. We paid a small fee to get in and another small fee for the tram, which picks you up and drops you off at different areas of the park. I joked that the tickets should have been $5 and the tram ride should have been $50 because there was no physical way any person could walk those grounds, in that heat, and survive. Every step, again being a conscious effort, every cell, again swelling to capacity. It felt like there were more people working there than visiting and by the end of our hour or two stent, I could see why; it was simply unbearable. We made good use of our time indoors for lunch and in the discovery center, where the kids touched just about everything they could – including a possums tail – within a few minutes but spent the next thirty climbing up and down a small carpeted hill while Willy and I waited for our body temperatures to cool to a normal level before making what I estimate to be a couple hundred feet walk to the exit. I considered waiting for the tram, which would have made the full loop back around the park, just to take us to the exit and avoid those couple hundred of feet in the sweltering heat. Did I mention that it was hot?

We also spent some time in the pool because water is more or less a necessity in conditions like these (am I being dramatic?). And later in the day we did some off-roading and happened upon Cabot’s Pueblo Museum in Desert Hot Springs, which had some of the most beautiful woven rugs, tapestries, and ceramics.

I woke up the next morning fretting about the wedding, cuz’ that’s what I do before just about every shoot, no matter how big or small. And as if luck were on my side, the clouds hung around most of the day and between that and my adrenaline, the heat was more or less an after thought. The wedding was terrific and the couple every bit delightful as I had imagined. I’ll be sharing some of those images soon.

We left the following morning, hitting up our favorite breakfast joint just one last time; the deal sweetened by it being “Grandparents Day” and the kids eating free… something all of us parents can appreciate because we all know how wasted half those meals are anyway. Later in the day we returned home to a house full of dust (we’re working on one of the bathrooms), bags begging to be unpacked, and a memory card full of a couple’s special day begging to be edited.

But, alas, air conditioning. And a thirty degree temperature drop.

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