its always hard to leave, because I know I'm going to have to come back. Not like a moth to a flame, but returning to the desert after being away does seem like being pulled into the fire.
We went away, to a magic place.
A place I had only heard about, where there's as much water as Arizona has brown, and that's a lot! The grass was indeed greener, the community more kind, and the sky was a perfect clean blue.
It's hard to go away because I know that coming back will throw me into this dark place where hope is a memory only dimly recalled through pictures that cannot do the real thing any true kind of justice. Which is where I now sit, here in the darkness, my heart a shattered remnant of these memories of beauty.
I've never seen a sky so blue. I've never been so far from home. The ocean depth and breadth stunned me, called to me, and I know I could have gotten lost sitting by the shore and staring off into the seemingly endless horizon.
I was surprised by the humidity, the air so thick with moisture at times that I wondered if I needed to bag up the electronics. The night time temperature was the same as the temperature during the day. Stepping from the ocean didn't feel like you were immediately being evaporated. The sky … I grew up with a very clean and pollution free sky. But even the magic of home couldn't compete with daily rain storms and clean ocean breeze which left the air so fresh and blue that it almost hurt my eyes with its beauty.
And so we are back. Back to school. Back to dirt. Back where we don't belong.