Slice 32 of 365

“Blah, it’s so barren I’d kill myself if I had to live here.”

That was a quote (as best as I remember it) from a person I know (I won’t elaborate) who has been to visit us in Arizona. I believe it was said with a closed mind not exactly filled with a hopeful attitude at that particular point in time. Which surprised me because this person usually makes the best out of everything but that’s not the point and a different story

You could see many parts of AZ as barren desert but you would be wrong. It is devoid of many things which might just seem normal back east or pretty much anywhere that isn’t desert. It isn’t green very often. Further north in the higher country there are lots of pines which look wonderfully green year round.

We have a national forest not far from out house, the Prescott National Forest, and the first time I saw the sign from the highway I remember saying, “Forest? Where are all the trees?”

They were not trees as I would have described them from my experience. They were scrub brush at best. I suppose I look at them differently now since I’m used to them. (side note: Perhaps it’s weird but I love trees, future post maybe)

I had to drive to the airport today (where I’m writing) in Phoenix and I’ve done it many times since we’ve lived here. I don’t get to look around as much as I would like since my eyes are focused on the road but I can see enough. I stopped at a rest stop on the way for the first time since we’ve been here.

It had several paths to walk and see the mountains. I’d seen these mountains in passing but never really looked because I was flying by at 75 MPH. They look similar to my mountains, the ones I live in and the peaks I can see from my yard and windows. And at the same time they were different. The clouds, the light, the air, it all made for a completely different view.

I’m not very fond of where I live, for a myriad of reasons, but the views and scenery are not one of them. Every time I go out, whether just in the yard, driving to the grocery store or further into town, I see my mountains and I think that if I ever take them for granted then it’s time for me to be done.

They’re not always green, or treelined. They may be dusty and dry and there are dangerous fires sometimes.

None of that matters though because there is a certain simple elegance about them that makes all of it majestic.

And in that majesty there is magic and in that magic is me.

Until tomorrow…

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