I realized last night that I haven't told a story in a long time. That this has become more of a journal than I had originally intended. So here is a story.

Back in the day, because Once upon a time is a little worn out, we would drive. When it was dark, and we were bored, and it was too hot to sleep, we would drive. The car had broken air conditioning, so the windows would be rolled down.

The city had a roar to it, despite being extremely spread-out. There was a constant roar. Only when we moved away, did I notice it fully. Mainly in its absence. The roar was cars, air conditioners, people, just noise in general. There was a heat too. Cement holds the heat almost better than anything else. And then at night it radiates. We would drive through cool patches, like the zoo area and where Papago golf course is. It smelled green there. Not dry and dusty like the rest of the place. Broken glass glittered in the gutters, and little tufts of dust would shift across the road when a breeze stirred.

The further out towards the suburbs we went, the cooler the air got, as we got beyond the miles and miles of buildings and apartment complexes. We knew where the old orange groves were, and loved to drive by them in the spring when there were blossoms. I'm pretty sure they are what made me sneeze, but they smelled so pretty, and it was cooler there.

We drove by the cotton fields. We drove by the corn. We drove as far as we could, in an attempt to see the desert stars. But the glare of the city lights made this impossible. Until the night we drove north. After about 40 miles, the hills cut the sky off to the south. And we saw the stars.

When I was a child, we went to Phoenix in the summer. I remember driving into the city at night, while lying in the back seat, looking out the back window. And seeing an endless expanse of stars. So very close. So incredibly bright.

When we drove north, we saw this. It is breathtaking, and unexpected. It was also chilly there. We weren't used to normal evening temperatures. And we got cold quickly. But it was worth it, because we now know what it is like to see stars. More stars than anywhere else. More stars than is possible. With a dull orange glow in the southern sky. Where home lay. And the heat. And the dust.