Honest
This is one of my favorite Tucson sights.
It’s just a rusty old sign advertising a used car lot that’s no longer in business, but I feel like it describes the city perfectly. Well, perhaps not the “ugly” part - though many would look at the dust and the brown and think it so. I, however, find the desert bewitching, stark though its beauty may be.
The honest bit, though, that’s true. It is a land that is nothing if not honest.
I love that everything in the desert has to fight to survive - the daytime heat, the nighttime chill, the lack of water. As such, I cannot help but look around and see every living thing simply radiating strength and determination. And every time I notice the channeling of energy into something beautiful? A delicate leaf or a cactus flower? It gives me a renewed determination to hold my ground and bloom where I’m planted, no matter what troubles come my way.
If you hadn’t guessed it already, we spent this past week down in Tucson at the gem show doing my stone buying for the year. This was our fourth trip and, by this point, we know our way around. I know the vendors I want to hit. I know which kinds of stones will bring me joy to create with in the coming months. I know which restaurants we simply HAVE to stop at while we’re there. As a result of all this streamlining knowledge, I’ve come away with an absolutely glorious collection of stones to create with.
Though this was our shortest trip yet, just two and a half days, we did a whole lot less rushing than in past years. Upon our arrival, we ambled off of the plane and went to lunch instead of running to our first show as fast as possible. We took the time to seek out new coffee shops, sitting and chatting instead of taking drinks to go. We went to only a couple of shows instead of trying to hit as many as possible.
A big part of it was that I stayed off of Instagram. I have been known to get a serious case of FOMO (failure of missing out, if that acronym is unfamiliar!!) when faced with the barrage of simply spectacular things my fellow smiths uncover while in Tucson - and the result is that I start questioning my own choices, experiences, and happiness. It’s my nature - and while I don’t believe I can change it, I’m learning how to navigate life in a way that doesn’t leave me floundering.
Back at the beginning of the year, I actually deleted all of my social media accounts from my phone and moved Instagram over to an iPad. I’ve known for awhile that my most joyful and productive days are the ones where I spend most of my time checking in with myself instead of with the rest of the world. So making this switch, where being on Instagram is an intentional part of my life instead of just habitual, has made a huge difference.
And in Tucson, it meant feeling like I didn’t have anything to prove. Nothing to compare to. And I was able to just BE in a way that I haven’t experienced on our previous three trips. It was a change for the better indeed.
I also got to soak up some serious desert magic on this trip - magic I missed out on last year due to weather. At the time, I think I wrote something along the lines of, “you win some, you lose some,” but in truth I was gutted not to have had the chance to walk among the saguaros. So, this year, we made a point to make up for it. West of the city, on a rocky trail winding up and away through the hills, we set ourselves loose.
Golden hour in the desert (be it morning or evening) has always been my favorite.
I remember waking up early at my grandma’s house and walking the perimeter of the yard with her dog, Heidi, at my side. Heidi wasn’t too keen on kids, but in those glowing minutes at the start of the day she’d sometimes sit down beside me - not near enough to touch, but close enough that I knew we were there together - and we’d watch the dusty purple shadows shorten and solidify as the heat of the day began to gather.
The evenings were a different sort of beautiful. My feet still remember the contrast between the cool tiles in the house and the deep, radiating scorch of the concrete around the little pool out back. And the smell - have you ever known heat to have a smell? To me it will always smell like the Sonoran desert. As the sun dipped lower, setting every cactus spine alight with golden fire, I’d sit, nearly breathless with anticipation, waiting for the first star in the sky and the cool of night.
I can’t tell you what a comfort it is after all this time, after all these years, to be struck with these same memories while out walking among the cholla. Some things change - but, thankfully, some never do.
Until next year, lovely Sonora!
