All around me summer is letting go, and monsoon season is drawing to a close. I can almost feel the days getting hotter, the air getting drier. The mountains are still green from the rain and will be for a month more. The waxy, vibrant cactus flowers are out in profusion. The desert is an incredible place to live; so responsive to the changing seasons. When the rains come across the valley floor you can almost hear things growing, opening, greening, expanding. This year the Santa Cruz river filled its banks, the water carrying logs and stones and trash in heaps as it swept through the dry beds. I’m going to miss this season, with its scent of creosote and wet earth, mesquite wood and smoke and oleander. I’m going to miss the sense of transformation.
This month is a both a challenging and exciting one for us. My husband and I are celebrating three years of marriage, I have to find new heath insurance (not fun), and at the end of this month, we will be moving. Our lease is up and we need our new lease to be shorter than our current landlord can offer, so we’re moving across the city to a bigger place where we will be at the cusp of the National Forest, and just minutes from several family members. Though I won’t allow myself to make decisions based on fear, I would be lying if I didn’t say it will be nice to have them close by.
Just like this desert, I am constantly seeking transformation. I want to shed those parts of me that address my illness with fear, or sadness, or worry. I want balance.
The monsoons over the mountains.