Parting Shot

As the saying goes: The check's in the mail. All done, buttoned up and outta there. Here are the last two things I think I'll have to say about Arizona:

First word: Dirt. Even in the big city of Phoenix the one environmental condiment that seems to be served up with everything is dirt. Whether it's your car parked 40 feet under ground, a (relatively) green and lush neighborhood, or the deck around your pool-- there is a fine coat of dirt everywhere. And it's no mystery: Those gorgeous hills and peaks that pop up all around the city are nothing more than well sculpted piles of dirt; nursery beds for saguaros, playgrounds for rattlesnakes out hunting for scorpions.

Second: Time. Arizona does not adhere to the idiocy of Daylight Savings Time. Subsequently, every time we were out there over the summer I noticed that, within a day or so, I naturally started to go to bed around sundown and got up shortly before sun-up. No wonder it's the perfect place for retirement. It seems as if the whole place revolves around sun-up and sundown. How novel.

I don't know if we'll ever return to stay but Arizona was a nice detour. We'll be back with hats, sunscreen, and plenty of soap. But no alarm clock.