by Victoria -

The Hike

And here is post #7 for week #7.  See, I’m staying on track!  I’m going back to Arizona for a short vacation soon, and my mind was full of memories.

The suffocating heat is oppressive. The sun’s beat-down makes me wish I’d started my hike earlier in the day. I was almost there, but that last mile has been brutal.

I pause for a few minutes in the shade of a mesquite tree to catch my breath and drink from my water bottle. The water is quite warm now, but it’s wet and that’s what matters. My gaze seeks out the distant blue mountains, appearing closer than they are. I breathe deeply and allow my mind to rest, and I smile. The immediate scenery at my feet is brown and tan and varying shades of green with the occasional flowering shrub bravely brightening the landscape.

Tough. Patient. Resilient. These words describe the Arizona desert’s flora and fauna.

My back is covered in sweat and I can feel lines of moisture slowly tracking down my neck even as the wind lifts my hair to bring a teaser of coolness. Even with the extreme heat and sweating, my skin dries quickly because of the low humidity.

The never-ending bright blue sky remains, and only yields grudgingly to the evening by changing colors ever so slowly. The last half hour of light the sky explodes into neon orange as if the blue suddenly relinquished all hold to the day and bids us a farewell.

I pass by an acacia tree in bloom whose honey-sweet scent greets me, making me slow my steps and turn in my tracks for just a few moments to relish the beauty of sweetness hovering in the heated air. I gently finger a soft, fuzzy golden yellow ball of scent before I move on. The heat is intensifying and I’m getting tired.

I walk by a tortoise posing as a statue, his movements agonizingly slow and deliberate. Tiny lizards silently run quickly past flying across the ground and disappearing into the scrub on some errand of extreme importance and immediacy.

Cactus wrens remain perched up high peeking outside their nesting holes in the top of stately saguaros safe from predators. Their little ones strategically surrounded by razor sharp cactus spines chirp out their hunger and wait.

A road runner streaks past leaving a dust trail in his wake, agilely weaving around the scrub and cholla and small boulders strewn around the landscape like marbles that have fallen out of a bag and disappears down the path in a tumble of pebbles.

Life in the desert is precarious and unforgiving. It’s also patient and resolute. Single-mindedness of survival with the summer day beginning hot and increasing in its merciless heat until the earth incrementally turns and the sun sets. The night becomes almost cool and the air a caress as if apologizing for the inhospitable day.

The blackness of the night shrouds the mountains in a cloak of secrecy, where they appear in the morning light again like a wayward lover with a kiss of welcome.

The heartbeat of the mountains and the desert beat in sync with mine as we discover life together.

by Victoria -

There and Back Again – all who wander are not lost

Ok, so now you can stop bugging me.  I’m back on track – this is post number 6.  I made up for last week and wrote two this week.  Arizona, here I come!

I did this thing. You know what I mean – all of a sudden, I had plunked down my money and it was done. A teeny tiny thought had become an idea, which in turn became a desire, that became action.

So, I got to thinking. How in the world did this happen? It’s been only about 3 weeks max since the first inkling, so it shouldn’t be difficult to cast back in my mind the initial thought that quickly, like a speeding out of control train, ended up with my bank account quite a few dollars shorter than what it had been the moment before I clicked on ‘buy now’.

It was just about seven years ago I left Arizona, fully anticipating returning, if only as a visitor, within a few short years. Well, that didn’t happen, but tons of life did for the next seven years. I went from Arizona to Michigan, my personal Siberia, to help care for my mom with dementia, then down to Florida chasing the heat and sunshine to be close to my son who is in prison.

I think the thought-seed was planted when a co-worker mentioned she was taking her daughter on vacation to Colorado in the summer. She mentioned the Grand Canyon, and I’m pretty positive my brain did that association game. I’d been to the Grand Canyon years before when I owned a condo in Arizona.

The next thing I knew I was googling ‘condos to rent in Fountain Hills’ and checking Travelocity for ticket prices. Just out of curiosity, of course. I got to thinking that IF I were going to go, I’d want to go in April before it got blast-furnace hot, but still good and warm for hiking. My boss okayed the time off, and before I knew it, I had purchased a plane ticket, secured a rental car, and bought a week in a cozy condo.

My excitement was almost uncontainable.

Oh, I should stop here and say that it was just about tax filing time and, based on my last two years’ returns I was quite confident of about how much I’d be getting back.

Oops. Found out that was an incorrect assumption. Yes, I can afford to pay for the vacation, but I really wasn’t wanting to see that much subtracted from my savings. Ah, well. What’s done is done.

Which brings me to the next thing I need to say. This was pretty much totally out of character for me. I tend to be a very cautious person, and quite frugal, so spending the money before actually filing my taxes was not my modus operandi.

Which got me to thinking something else. See how my mind rabbit-trails?

I think God set me up. He wants me to go to Arizona, and He knows that if I waited until I filed my taxes, once I discovered I wasn’t getting more than diddly-squat, I’d nix the Arizona idea altogether.

So now I’ve been looking at condos for sale because real estate is a passion of mine and I’m a realtor.com addict.

I have to reiterate something I’ve been saying for years. For my time in Arizona, God did a special work on my heart that has chained my heart to those mountains and desert as if they were literal chains. I cannot get the feel of the sun on my skin and the evening shadows playing on the mountain faces and the intensity of life in the desert out of my head. I have never wished to be in a place as intensely as I have my mountains and my desert.

As a woman is heartsick over her love to come home, so I’ve been heartsick to go back to the one place where I felt healed and whole. I experienced God there in a way I’ve not anywhere else. I almost touched heaven. How can I not want to go back?

Through the joy and grace I’ve experienced in Florida – and I have learned to love Panama City Beach’s people and the white squeaky sand and the never tiring waves of the ocean a stone’s throw away – I believe the mountains and the desert of Arizona are where my essence still lives, and I want to go back and be reunited with my soul.

Don’t worry, I’ll take lots of pictures. And after a week, I’ll get on a plane and fly back to my life in Florida, where I’ve been gifted with many graces and people I dearly love.

by Victoria -

Popcorn and a movie

I know, I know!  This is post 5, but it’s week 6.  I really did write something last week, but it wasn’t good enough to post, so, what can I say?  I’m a work in progress.

I sat spell-bound this evening watching a movie. No, not a movie. The re-telling of an achingly sad and beautiful story. A story that happened before I was born to people just like me. Their sadness was my sadness. Their struggles were my struggles, and their joy became my joy as well.

What made it so riveting wasn’t the acting, which was spot on, or the scenery and setting which were breath-taking, but the perspective of each character as they told their part in the unfolding saga of loss and sacrifice. What they saw, what they felt, and what they believed about what was happening around them, to them, and to those they loved the most.

Each one with a character arc, and each one with a distinct and important place in the story. Each voice with their own unique sound and intonation telling their tale with passion and brutal honesty.

The ending was only partially predictable, and immensely satisfying.

I love stories that reveal only hints and keep you guessing at what was really behind someone’s actions. What was their motivation for doing what, on the surface seemed terrible, but in the end showcased the character’s strength that became an inspiration to others.

Terribly difficult things happen to the best people. Hearts are broken and lives are shattered. But those who overcome the worst life can bring, have a way of finding joy in everyday life. They turn their faces to the sun, breathe deeply, and are thankful for what they still have.

The best stories are stories of triumph over evil, where love grows ever stronger despite the darkness, and hope saves the weak, giving them strength they never believed they could possess to overcome difficulty and even thrive in the worst of circumstances.

Each time we rise up out of our sorrow and disappointment, we encourage someone else. And the ripples keep going for as far as the eye can see.

Having others to do life with makes the uncertain journey fulfilling and worth it. There’s nothing like the look of love and understanding from a friend, nothing like the embrace of a neighbor with a shared grief, and nothing like the whispered words “I’m right here”, to infuse a heart with purpose and meaning to keep going.

As Jesus said, “in the world you will have tribulation, but be of good cheer, for I have overcome the world.”

Everyone’s story is valuable and everyone’s story has merit.