A Love Letter to Arizona

Dear Arizona,

    I confess to you that my love for you has only grown after moving across the country. As you enter your one-hundredth year of statehood I congratulate you. You may lack the historic magnitude of Massachusetts and New York; the laid-back ocean breezes of California; and the seasonal patterns of most other states; but AZ, baby, you’re in a class all your own and I love ya.

    You are an enchanting region where the rocks run red and geology spreads its wings. From the pockmarked border towns with miles of dirt in between, through the Sonoran desert spilt in the middle, to the forests of Flagstaff and its hidden jewel lakes, up North through the gaping Grand Canyon and to the snow-capped mountains that watch over suburban palaces.

    I’ve driven sunset-first on your highways that circulate around one another. I’ve had too many close calls of crashing into other cars trying to catch a glimpse of the sunlight shrapnel. Here the sun is a god and it casts down the sins of the universe. Sweat drops ten months out of the year. When I walk across Lindsay and McKellips my line of vision reaches out for ten miles. In the distance mountains are like prehistoric whales lurching from the ocean. If I should find myself drunk, lost and weary in the desert, I know the mountain ranges will always lead me home—Four Peaks to the Superstitions to Red to Camelback. A fortress that protects the valley. An open sky to watch over you always. And when night falls and the sun closes shop an achingly gorgeous array of purples, pinks and slices of orange mix and mesh with exhaustive pollution for the most beautiful showcase of nature anyone could ever imagine in one lifetime. Arizona, happy birthday you devil!
* MESA, ARIZONA
* #SummerShare