ursulav

I grew up in Seattle, land of lead-gray sky. I moved to Alaska and lived there for 7 years, land of dark and cold. 4 states later, I've discovered how much I miss Seattle weather and yet...

I find myself with a suddenly very strong desire to move to Arizona.

Gorgeous writing.

A new thought hits me as a i reread this artistic description (for it is quite nice i must say)

and that thought is

I have a great undenyable desire to wrap the state in nori and seasoned rice and eat it

Arizona Sushi !

For Ursula. No references, I just put down what I remembered, so forgive me if it looks like hell.

Oh, and she's waving goodbye, in case you can't tell >_<

Aww! Thank you--that's wonderful! (And a nice thing to find after a week of no 'net, too...)

Beautifully written, Ursula. If only I could write so well, I'd describe what I love about the forests and woodlands. I know you won't see this until you're set up again in NC, but I hope the trip goes smoothly.

That was beautiful.

The only thing that looks like an octillo is found in deep sea trenches next to sulfer spitting vents, and lives on bioluminescent fish and irony.

You rock like, as someone said elsewhere, a vintage hand-crafted rocking thing.

I'm living in Tucson at the moment, where things are a little bit damp around the edges from some recent rain (not a bad thing, mind, especially if it encourages spring wildflowers). I grew up in the Northeast and sometimes I miss it terribly, but Arizona does have a beauty all it's own, one that you capture very well.

Arizona, land of the macho gun-totin' cowboy, is in fact predominately pink--an orangey, terra-cotta raw-salmon pink, to be sure, but pink nonetheless. The rocks and gravel are pale pink.
You must not have been all over Arizona. A good majority, from what I've seen driving back and forth across the state, is pink, salmon, rose, terra-cotta, whatever. But there's an awful lot of it that's just shades of brown, from dusty-gray to tan to a yellowish umber colour. Sort of like the dried-up African savannah, but hard and rocky instead of the brittle crispness of dying grass. I saw that a lot along the Colorado River, from up in the Black Canyon near Willow Beach down towards Yuma. Up near Flagstaff there's every shade of green you can imagine or that you'd find in your giant box of crayons.

A hummingbird, in its own mind, is ten stories tall with grendade launchers and gunports. A hummingbird knows, down in the hollow toothpicks of its bones, that it can kick your ass.
We used to joke, at the Bill Williams NWR, that if hummingbirds were the size of seagulls, we'd all be doomed. (Never mind that they'd be biologically impossible at that size.) I've been told of a documentary where they placed a stuffed (as in a real skin from a dead bird) hummingbird in another's territory. The living bird would threaten it, then carefully attack it, and finally, when the intruder didn't leave its territory, it tore off its head. Kick your ass indeed.

I'd say it's a shame you have to leave the desert, but maybe it's not. I hope North Carolina treats you well and finds a way to inspire you just as much.

Beautiful. Thank you.

If you dig deep enough, you get caliche (a layer of calcium carbonate saturated soil) and then clay. If you want loam you have to have it trucked in and laid overtop. ..Well, that or spend decades making your own, but I doubt many people do.

This is a great reflection, and although I can't completely empathize--having never been west of the Mississippi River--I do understand what it is like to have a deep connection to a place *hugs Kentucky*

My daughter insisted that I read this, and I'm now wanting to plan a vacation to Arizona. You should send this to the Arizona Convention and Visitors People. They should hire you to write their promos!

On to North Carolina - the Blue Ridge Mountains are my favorite place on earth. We flee the flat lands of middle Georgia for the majesty of the Blueridge Mountains every time we have 5 days in a row. Enjoy!
Treblemusic