My blessing for today is found in nature. My daily morning commute includes a 15 mile drive north on the freeway. At one point each morning, I drive up a small incline. Without intention, I seem to have coordinated the sunrise with my brief view from the top of this little hill. To my right, there is a vast expanse of Native American reservation. Some of the fields hold the gray, dying remnants of a Pima cotton harvest. Others remain fallow. To the immediate north are the McDowell Mountains. To the east, the Superstitions, Four Peaks and Red Mountain. On the other side of the freeway, Camelback and Mummy Mountains look jealously to the east, watching their counterparts once again be showered first in a burst of color. I’ve come to look forward to this vista each morning.The miraculously quick change of color as the sun peeks over the mountains and the sky moves from navy to aqua to tangerine and violet — it is spectacular.
I will greatly miss the mountains and the sunrises when I move from Arizona.