Friday, March 9, 2012

Something Snaky This Way Comes

Photo Courtesy of Alegri Photos
This is either "fair warning" and "come hither" depending on which camp you're in -- those who hate snakes, or those who love them.

I was very happy to visit In Reference To Murder yesterday and share my love of all things reptile. If you feel the same, please join me for a slithery good time.

You can find my guest blog HERE .

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Arizona Beauty

Scottsdale Sunset -- from our hotel room

There's something to this place. The reds and golds and blues and greens. The colors make their own canvas. They give you room that way, to create your own art. This place has more space than any place I've ever been -- the sky doesn't even seem to touch. 

At Chapel of the Holy Cross -- Sedona, AZ
And I was stunned at the life in the desert. I always think of deserts as blank and yellow -- but there was such lush green here too. Succulents and blossoms, tender-looking but tough, like the heroes and heroines of my favorite mysteries. Bloom where you are planted, they say. Look at these gorgeous examples.
In the distance -- On the road to Sedona
On the road to Sedona, just past Scottsdale and Phoenix, these mountains just appeared, like they been sleeping out of sight, and then as if on cue, rose up, stretching, into the sky. The GPS showed nothing but our tiny virtual car, like one of the bitty cars from the game of Life, and green nothing all around us. Only that nothing was something, let me tell you.
And then -- at the end of the road -- this. I mean, look at this.

These are the cliffs at The Chapel of the Holy Cross at the top of one of the mesas in Red Rock country.  A place of grace and beauty and largeness. You are so small here. And you are so grateful to be small that your spirit gets really really big.

I could have spent days here. The few hours expanded me. I look forward to my next desert trip -- it feels like a part of me is still there.

Visit HERE if you like to learn more about the Chapel of the Holy Cross.