Pitstop in Phoenix

I am patiently awaiting for the van to be ready; today or tomorrow. The running board should be fixed, thermostat mounted, and water heater ready to light. The propane heat will allow Luna and I to stay warm while boon docking on national forest /blm lands. The hot water is a luxury. The running board an added bonus. I am getting my p’s and q’s in order and feeling really optimistic about this blog and the work I am creating. Friday I leave with Celeste to camp in Flagstaff for the weekend before I leave Arizona. I am lucky to have a friend to live life with whenever we get the chance, wherever we are. We spent Saturday walking around vintage shops loaded with free snacks and beautiful mid-century furniture and decor, topping the day off with fancy donuts and beer. I have explored coffee shops and parks, and cussed about traffic like a real local. I stopped trying to drive my van and began walking everywhere within a few miles radius which has made all of the difference. Phoenix has been really wonderful. I may like it after all.

I am on a porch over looking 7th ave in down town Phoenix. An umbrella shades me from direct sunlight and my naked cat is curled up in the chair next to me. Unclothed. This morning I took a walk to a park and broke a sweat in my t-shirt. It’s November. I see wreaths on front doors and hear jingle bells playing in and out of shops. I also see sunshine and flowers blossoming, coloring the busy streets below a bright blue sky. This is why Phoenix is the fifth largest city in the country.

If I were home in Missouri, I would be bundling up and winding down. The world would begin to retreat indoors as the temperature dips below freezing. I have participated in each season for 24 years in Missouri. I have endured the hot, muggy summers and hibernated through the ice storms and below 0F temps. I have rolled my ankle on the seed pods of suburban Sweetgums in the fall, and have yearned for the dogwoods to blossom in spring. I know how sweet the first glimpse of sunshine is after a cold dark winter and the bittersweet beauty of the leaves as they fall. I am familiar with every season. Sickeningly.

This time of year, Phoenix slips to a tolerable, even enviable, temperature. People come out of their homes and turn off their fatigued air conditioners and even pull out their jackets in 70F weather. Here, the climate encourages you to be active and see the sun when its not so in-your-face. It’s like a fall without the winter. But without the leaves telling you its time to lay down. Instead, the plants flourish and bloom. The grass is finally able to grow without burning.

Midwest winters can be harsh and dark and never-ending. The sun disappears for weeks at a time, the weather hangs out below freezing, and the snow and ice make leaving the house miserable. Enter: Seasonal depression. You now spend 20% of your day putting on and taking off coats, scarves, and beanies, 30% trying to warm up, 40% warming your car up and/or shoveling/salting/scraping the driveway. When you finally make it home with that 10% it is really easy to neglect all of the goals that you set in your self-help journal when you lived in the sunshine. (Just me?) It’s not always easy. So, I am grateful for the sunshine. But the distance from the snow has made me think about the opportunity it offers to reboot and restore. I am also very aware that most of the people reading this are enduring or about to endure this very thing, and to you I say— Truly, I hope you are able to be grateful for the snow, at least once, and lean into slowing down and spending time with people you love.