I grew up in the high desert. Winter snows. Dusty, dry summers. This place is my bones. My history and heritage.
I live in the valley. Lush, green vegetation and lots of rain. This place is my blood.
My home is my life. The land is my body. The air is my spirit. These two very different places are pieces of me. I need them both. Crave them. They fulfill me. The drive between them is my favorite drive. Watching the trees change from cherry and oak to ponderosa pine and juniper. The underbrush from a riot of variety to predominantly sagebrush. (Oh, the smell of juniper and sage! Powerful magic, that.) Then, on the drive back, watching everything turn green.