Well, it looks like I’ve circled the wagon back to my birthplace of Arizona, (in my case my wagon is my trusty 2004 Jeep) and I’m not so sure I subscribe to the ole saying “You can’t go home.” I’ve met plenty of folks who end up circling back to their place of origin, maybe it is something about the familiar or what was birthed into our bones, all I know is you can find home again. Although I haven’t landed in Phoenix, my birthplace, I’m about 55 miles Northwest in a dusty desert town called Wickenburg. After living half my life in Tennessee, it was just after my youngest child graduated from college that the draw to return to the land of eternal sunshine beckoned my soul to return.
There was no plan of action or destination, it was a journey of exploration as I switched career gears and sought out a new place to call home. I worked that summer at a dude ranch in Wyoming, but knew all along that their winters would not be my best companion, so at the end of that season in September I headed South toward the Arizona line, considering each town I stopped at along the way, “Could I live here?” Idaho, Utah, Northern Arizona, Southern Arizona, leaving out the Phoenix option, since I knew I was done with city life, and of course that body hugging summer heat. I still enjoyed seasons and needed a place where I could explore, literally and figuratively.
Since I had a writers’ retreat to attend in Sedona that fall, it would be my last stop on the tour de States. The retreat gave me inspiration to reconnect to the land, to be still and listen and allow Nature to enhance my well-being and my writing life. If you’ve ever been to Sedona, you may be aware of her seductive invitation to stick around awhile, and so with her Red Rock embrace I decided to settle in and explore what she had to offer. Having lost my mother the past winter, and embarking on my new life as an empty-nester, this was the perfect place to call home…for now.
This is where the blog begins…