I feel like lately I've fallen into the trap of negativity. I truly believe that just like optimism is contagious, negativity is equally so.
For the past several months I've been complaining about living here in Arizona--I was hating the weather and griping about how there were so many beautiful places to live--why in the world were we stuck in a place who's favorite color seemed to be brown and faded (very faded) green. Almost every weekend would come and go and the only thing we could find to do was eat and sit on our couch watching movies. We have yet to find friends to fill the spot of our Idaho besties and the lack of socialization was really getting to me.
I dreaded seeing co-workers or family members after a weekend because I knew they would ask something like, "How was your weekend, did you do anything fun?" and I would rack my brain trying to think of something, anything that was noteworthy, but always ended up replying something like, "It was fine--we went out to eat..." and then quickly changed the subject.
I constantly rolled my eyes at the dirt lots and chain-link fences that were the ever-present eyesores of the neighborhood--my eyes were yearning for scenes I had found in Europe--cobblestone roads, wild green grass and lush wisteria vines taking over thousand year old walls.
I was a grouch--and i was getting sick of myself.
Then a friend of a friend contacting me through Facebook and asked if I wanted to be part of his photography project. He and his wife had recently moved from Utah, a place surrounded my some the prettiest mountains in America to the desert of Arizona and he felt similarly to how I was feeling about the desolate landscape. The difference between he and I, was that he was working to love with his new home. He embarked on a project to find the good Arizona has to offer (it does have many good things) and capture the beauty--he wanted to fall in love with the wild desert.
I thought his idea was interesting, so I drove out to east Mesa and met him and his wife and we all drove out to the Superstition Mountains. As we got closer, I realized that I hadn't ever been right up to them--they're mountains I have seen my whole life, but had never taken the time to really experience them. My mouth was gaping open as we drove through the untouched desert, at peak time--the golden hour--those red rocks rocked my world. I was so happy to be right where I was.
The shoot was so beautiful--it was extremely quite and peaceful and there was a gentle, but crisp breeze. He shot film, so there as no peaking. We stayed out for a few hours and just as we were wrapping up, both he and his wife's eyes widened, I turned to see what was of such interest and right behind me over those gorgeous flat mountains, rose a bright silver dollar moon. I got the chills and my eyes welled up a little. It was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen.
I was suddenly so proud of my state. I had fallen back in love with it. Out there in the silence, I could feel that God loved me. He made beautiful things for us to look at, because He knew there were people like me, who needed to see them. That's when I know God is there the most--when I see His creations, unaltered by man.
Since that time, I've had the chance to drive out there again, this time by myself. It was just as magical and I felt just as loved.
I needed new eyes, and out there in that cool desert, I found them.
all photos by Pressing the Plane