So I was driving yet again through the boring vast expanse of corn and soybeans, like I’ve done too many times in my life, and I started daydreaming about Arizona.
I thought about lying on a rock in Sedona, smelling the warm fragrant air, listening to the wind rustle the juniper branches.
I thought about driving into Tonto National Forest late at night and turning my headlights off and being surrounded by the darkness of the desert, enjoying the earthy aroma of the creosote bushes.
I thought about the glow of the setting sun when it hits the McDowell Mountains and turns them a deep red color.
I thought about the stunning and colorful landscape of the Petrified Forest and Painted Desert, and how it seems to go on forever. The millions of years that have passed to create it.
I thought about the tall, silent ponderosa pines in Flagstaff and the San Francisco Peaks keeping watch over the city.
I thought about all the time and energy that it took to produce Arizona’s diverse landscapes, and the awe I feel every time I go outside there. I miss it so much.