Grass is overrated; give me cacti
I’ve had a love/hate relationship with our yard this year; I love having one but hate the constant mowing and weeding required to keep it looking decent. I also hate that “decent” here still isn’t anything close to my ideal.
When we moved in last summer, I noted our neighbor’s gravel and concrete backyard and wondered why anyone would opt for that in the suburbs. I still prefer grass over concrete and asphalt, but after a week in the Southwest, where the terrain was even more beautiful in person than in pictures, I’m more ready than ever to ditch the Northeast and move out West.
What I find most appealing about Southwest terrain, specifically the Sedona area, is that the plants and trees have a lot more personality; whether growing off the sides of cliffs, along the highway, or in people’s yards — each one stands out as an individual in the high desert landscape. I especially love cacti and prickly pear cacti, my favorite, are all over the place out there.
That Salomé was similarly seduced by Sedona means moving West isn’t just wishful thinking any more. We’ve already started looking into what it would take to relocate, figuring it could most likely happen within the next 2-3 years, though next summer isn’t completely out of the question if the real estate market here turns around by next Spring.
If the appeal doesn’t fade and it remains a serious consideration over the next couple of months, it will affect both our individual and joint plans for the next three years. Mine was getting a tweak already on the heels of my job change that starts tomorrow, as I need to make a decision about prioritizing my own writing vs. things like Spindle and Free Verse, the latter of which becomes even more appealing if we move out of this area.
It’s funny how quickly life can change. A couple of months ago we quietly noted the 1st anniversary of buying our house, fully expecting to be in it for at least another 5 years, and in Bloomfield for longer than that. Between the sharp increase in taxes this year, though, and the surprisingly podunk feel of this town in general, the siren call of Sedona is especially strong.
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