"But in the desert, in the pure clean atmosphere, in the silence - there you can find yourself. And unless you begin to know yourself, how can you even begin to search for God?" ~Father Dioscuros
An offer for Justin's next assignment came in just last night and we've accepted. We officially know where we're heading next and have a start date and the first draft of a plan.
I've never lived in the southwest corner of the United States. Never called the true desert home. The closest I've come is Texas, but I spent my time there in the Hill Country, which certainly has some desert qualities, but also grows enormous live oak trees along creek banks and hides clear blue springs behind spanish moss. Tucson is desert. True desert. Home to the sentinel saguaro and the fuzzy cholla and what seems like 17 species of rattlesnake.
We brushed by Tucson last spring on our way to Reno and were impressed. We watched a mighty storm roll through the landscape and had the smell of creosote etched forever on our hearts. It is a city that seems to have space that is readily accessible, which matters tremendously. After this time back home in New England, I'm aching to feel the wide western spaces as I break myself in once more to nomadic life.
Desert isn't always my first choice for wild places to spend time. I have a deep, deep love of huge trees and flowing water and mountains that hold secrets buried in the understory. But there is a place for desert in me too. The desert is a very good place to face down fear and truth- it has a way of stripping things away and leaving the bones bleached under it's ceaseless sun.
I suspect that I have things to learn in the desert. And I suspect that I am ready to learn them at last. It took me awhile to get here and it took a lot of work, but I am eager to listen in close to what the rattlesnake and the saguaro and the cholla have to say.
We are going into the desert. Tucson, here we come.
A few favorite shots from when we passed through Tucson in May...