Usually when I think or talk about where I’m from, it’s with a condescending fondness. Like how you say something kind of mean about someone and follow it with “bless his/her heart” as if that cancels out the meanness somehow.
It’s not kind or fair for me to think of it that way. Because yes, it is small and often ugly, but sometimes it looks like this:
And then I forgive it for all its shortcomings and am proud to consider it home.
(Side note: Is it any wonder that monsoon season in northern Arizona is one of my favorite things ever? Sunsets like this EVERY DAY. It’s breathtaking. This photo really doesn’t do it justice [though it is accurate: no color retouching or enhancement included]. Tempe monsoons just can’t compare.)
It also doesn’t hurt that my mom has managed to cultivate some phenomenal roses in her front yard over the years. Such a happy way to be welcomed home.
Amen. Though there are many beautiful places in this world, there is no place like home.
Tim and I were just discussing this same topic on the way home from church. Its not the greenest or the least windy, but we love being around family. That's why we like it..its home.
Brad: Isn't it weird?
Steph: Funny. We just can't help loving it, despite…well, a lot of things. 🙂
I just finished reading the second book in the These is My Words series and I can't stop thinking about Arizona. I totally understand how you have a love/hate relationship with it. Too hot for me.
Ashly, I LOVED those books. Jen & Brad – so glad we didn't scar you for life by moving here.