It's hard to believe it's been three and a half years since this photo was taken. We were driving across the country, from our old home in Florida to our new home in Arizona. We stopped at a visitor center just over the AZ line from NM to stretch our legs and play in the snow. It still seemed very unreal that this was our home state.
In some ways, Arizona seems like home. We have friends and continue to make new ones. We are members of a church, partiipate in a homechool co-op, and I sing in a chamber chorale. We're settled. We recognize many varieties of cacti, and admire the rocks in our neighbors' landscaping. Yet, every once in awhile, it still strikes me as odd that I live in Arizona. Like when I am on the freeway and see signs for "Los Angeles" or "Tucson". When I was growing up, Los Angeles might as well have been on another planet; it was a faraway place I never expected to see. Now it is a wearying 7-hour drive, in what I have discovered is an endlessly long state of CA. But a sign on the freeway "Go this way, and you'll be in L.A." still seems strange. Where in the world am I?
I'm here.
