Wandering Spade

Growing up in a small town in rural Nova Scotia, I never truly felt I belonged anywhere in the world and then I visited Arizona for the first time and I knew I had come home.

A lot of people who I talk to say the same thing when I tell them how amazing Arizona is. All they picture is this hot, dry, dust factory with tumble weeds, giant cacti and barren landscape. It's more than that though.
Arizona is one of the most diverse places I've been to. You can tell what elevation you're at simply by the vegetation growing there. In the high desert around 7000 feet near Flagstaff, you have aspen and ponderosa pine forests. There's all the seasons; winter, summer, fall, spring. It's funny to watch the faces of tourists who visit in the middle of winter or even spring and they wake up to a few feet of snow on the ground, mouths open, eyes wide open wondering if they're dreaming.

Drop a few thousand feet and you'll think you would have landed on Mars, but you're in the red rocks of Sedona and Oak Creek Canyon. When you get closer to Phoenix and down through to Tucson you're into the stereotypical desert. The first time I saw a truck drive past us on the highway with a tumble weed stuck in the grill I laughed for about fifteen minutes. I still chuckle at it.

I was sitting on the edge of the Grand Canyon one day when a crow glided by me. Simply gliding, not flapping its wings. I could hear the wind in its feathers it was so quiet. The silence of the desert is welcoming like a warm blanket and cup of tea.

I guess I can say that it spoiled me. After living in Flagstaff for a short time where I worked at a hostel in the mornings and then I was gone for the day and sometimes night. Hiking in the mountains, catching moon rises in the Painted Desert or on Cathedral Rock. Swimming in Oak Creek or, after a long day of hiking either Mount Elden or the San Francisco Peaks, enjoying a cold beer and live music from one of the many micro brewery's.

There's no room for loneliness in Arizona. It's because it lives in me. It's my heart home. I can go there in my dreams, or in my waking life. If I close my eyes, I am there. The desert resonates within me. It's settled nicely under my skin, making itself at home in the marrow of my bones. Becoming apart of me that no-one can take away. I feel that the desert taught me everything I need to know. It's given me survival skills, both physically and mentally. It taught me patience.