(no subject)

[zinniazayda]

Today I am acutely aware that I am in Arizona and this time next year I will not be in Arizona anymore. I will miss the soaked-watercolor sky, the land nothing but creosote and mountainous horizon. This afternoon I had Shakespeare class on a patio while warm winds flipped the pages of my book and shook pink blossoms from the tree above me. At one point, a hummingbird hovered by my teacher, drinking from tiny wildflowers, then soared over the art building.

I will miss that delicious raw underdog feeling of being in a place where almost no one shares my concerns and my joys.