No Place Like Home
I had forgotten how beautiful Tucson was. But as I drove over to a good friend’s house early this morning to see him just before he left for school again, I realized just how incredible my hometown was. It was just after sunrise, and the sun was peeking out from behind the wisps of clouds. Its rays spread out in open arms and bathed the roads in comforting warmth. The colors were subtle and had the washed-out tones of an underdeveloped photograph. It was breathtaking.
It’s a different sort of beauty than the boldness of Northern California. There are no the vividly green trees set against vividly red rooftops piercing a vividly blue sky splotched with vividly white clouds. Rather, the desert is soft and sweet, gentle and kind, humble and simple.
I love it here. There really is no place like home.
[I took this picture a few months back when my family and I drove up one of the
surrounding mountains for the day. It was beautiful. Film.]