Most folks probably spent Holi soaking others and getting soaked in the colors of spring. That's never been my choice for Holi. I usually avoid the holiday altogether having been traumatised by well-intentioned uncles and cousins long ago (all I remember is someone smearing colored goop into my eyes and mouth when I was least expecting it). I spent the holi-day this year soaking up the colors nature has been serving up in the southwestern deserts of the US, like those found in Death Valley National Park.
For weeks it’s been in the news local and national. Record rainfalls in recent winter months have brought on a spectacular display of wildflowers. The normally dry and desolate landscape is bursting with color, attracting car-loads of visitors from not just southern California and Nevada but as far away as Canada.
I set out early on Holi morning, very early. I was on the road headed northwest of Las Vegas before 7am that gorgeous, crisp day, partly to beat the crowds, mainly to see the landscape with the sun hitting it from the east as I cut through Red Rock Canyon, 
over the mountains, down through Sandy Valley to the town of Pahrump, Nevada. That’s where you turn left (west), into California, to Shoshone and you’re just a few miles from the edge of Death Valley National Park.
The flowers start out in the flat, terrain as you approach Death Valley. It was greener than I had imagined. Two years ago in February after a heavy rainfall, the views were as awe-inspiring, but the hues were definitely of the brown and grey variety. 
The day before I set out this year, I had heard on the radio to look for a hill as soon as you entered Death Valley, and it wasn’t long before I saw it. Yellow wildflowers seemed to stream down the side of the hill, like a creek, was how it had been described. 
I was tempted to start climbing the hill as I watched some adventurous types doing, but I soon realized that it was hard to step anywhere without crushing the flowers I’d come to see. So, I satisfied myself by staying close to the road, feasting on the sights and capturing the scenery on film and disk. 
It’s hard to imagine…out of such harsh earth spring such delicate flowers, but there they were. The seeds have always been there, it seems, waiting for just the right time to sprout.
People-watching was almost as interesting as the flower-gazing. There were photographers with professional gear in tow, minivans filled with families, and elderly couples with guidebooks in hand, bending down close to the flowers as they, I imagine, tried to identify each variety.
As I headed back to Las Vegas, thankful I had started out as early as I did, looking at the line of cars now headed towards the flowers, They'll be gone soon, the flowers, between the increasing daytime temperatures and the spring winds that kick up. I took one last look—yellow flowers, blue sky, spring-green flelds and the snow-capped mountains.
Definitely better than getting soaked by a bucket of cold, colored water!