Thursday, October 3, 2013

South Mountain

I drove a friend to his home the other day in Phoenix.
The sun was setting, and we drove straight like an arrow to the West, with a blinding ball of light before us, just at the horizon.  As we drove, I couldn't believe how the landscape changed, from flat, populated Tempe, past the highway, beyond the strip malls and fast food joints, until South Mountain suddenly rose up to the left, out of the desert.
It's a short, long hill that snakes its way parallel to Baseline Road.  In the past, I've laughed at little hills called mountains, but South Mountain is not to be laughed it.  Maybe it was the time of day, that golden hour, but there was a regality and a silent dignity that rose from the ground in that place, and it shut my mouth.
The road rose up and down abruptly, narrowing out as we wound our way through the neighborhood, a cluster of adobe-tan houses like a little village at the base of the hill.
I couldn't help but be breathless.  On one side, a desert wilderness, and a trailhead leading up the mountain.  On the other, the lights of Phoenix twinkling as the darkness crept in, the flat land sparkling its defiant eye toward the hills beneath me.

There is beauty everywhere.

As time barrels on into October, I find myself missing that Boston fall less and less.  There may not be golden orange leaves raining to the ground, but the air in the mornings here is crisp and fresh, and you can tell a new season is coming.  If I want, I can wear a sweater, even if it may live up to its name.  I had a pumpkin spice latte despite the 80 degree temperatures.  And you know what?  It was still delicious.
For now we are enjoying our little apartment and finally starting to clear out the boxes and add some personality.  I have a big DIY planned within the next week or two -- something I've been dying to do since we moved in.  More on that to come!

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