Impossible To Leave

“I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself.”
- Maya Angelou

When it came time to make the big decision, to stay or to go, I found it physically impossible to go. I could not leave Flagstaff, Arizona. Leaving Arizona would mean leaving natural gorgeousness, all of the explorations I had yet to experience and a great town supportive of the arts. In feeling this sense of potential loss, I knew Flagstaff’s presence in my life had grown important and indispensable to the point where I decided that I must tell people; “Yes, Arizona is my home,” for here is where I stopped longing.

What made it physically impossible for me to leave Flagstaff was when I imagined my life without San Francisco Peaks, without big imaginative skies, without omnipresent sunshine or the sweet smell of pine. All of these things bring me limitless comfort, like a best friend, after a hard day’s of school and work. This comfort I appreciate most on the evenings before the sun has completely set, when I ride my bike home from work, tired in body and mind. The first few moments of my ride home I think about how tired I am and dread all of the pedaling I have to do, but then something amazing happens, I look up. When I look up I see something so much bigger than myself, I see pink clouds floating down on the mountains, getting ready for bed, or I see the blue and gray remnants of a rainstorm, whatever it is I see it readily puts life back into my mind and body.

When I lived in Philadelphia, catching a glimpse of the skyline, especially at night, would sometimes have this same rejuvenating affect on me. I found, however, that it was only excitement I felt when seeing a big city all lit up like that. Therefore, it was not a lasting feeling. Arizona’s vistas excited me at first also, but the reason its landscape has not blended into the background of my consciousness like that of Philadelphia is because Arizona’s landscape is alive. I feel a deep love for the diverse living environment that engulfs Arizona, deeper than I could ever feel for lifeless buildings or architecture.

Arizona’s landscape is not exclusively good for looking at; it also begs to be explored. The question people often ask upon learning I live in Flagstaff is, “Isn’t there anything to do up there?” I guess since there is no venue for a Red Hot Chile Peppers concert, some think Flagstaff is a small town subject to small town boredom. While I cannot say on behalf of all Arizonans, especially not the high school population, that Flagstaff is not boring; I can personally attest that Flagstaff is anything but boring. In fact, Flagstaff becomes bigger, more interesting and multifarious to me every day, especially when I go somewhere new.

For instance, imagine my shock when, after having lived and traveled around in Flagstaff for many months, I discovered a few minutes away an underground cave almost a mile long. The cave is actually a lava tube formed millions of years ago. It was produced by a lava flow that cooled from the outside in allowing the lava inside the body of the flow to remain fluid, kind of like jelly in the center of a doughnut. In effect, when the eruptions stopped and there was no more lava coming, an empty tube-like structure was left behind. On a hot and sticky day when I descended into the refreshing 40-degree cave, I wondered what in the world was I doing all those months that I missed this!

It has now been over a year that I have lived in Flagstaff and I have yet to experience all of its surrounding destinations such as, Wutpaki National Monument, Montezuma Castle and the Grand Canyon. I have actually made it to those three places, but to think about how many more well-known and lesser-known places I have not been to makes me wonder how anyone could think there is nothing to do “up there.” I am not alone in this sentiment. Roger Clyne, a famous Arizonan musician dubbed the “Gringo Bandito,” has been quoted in Flagstaff Live Newspaper saying, “I love Northern Arizona...You could spend a lifetime discovering everything up there. I love how diverse it is, I love the mix of cultures...You've got the Grand Canyon, the highest point in Arizona, 12,000 and some change, Moenkopi, Navajo land, Sedona, everything. I think it's just amazing.”

I suppose that if one does not enjoy being outdoors, or has not yet realized they enjoy the outdoors, all of the things I have mentioned thus far would confirm that Flagstaff is indeed boring. I must mention, therefore, the urban aspects of Flagstaff. The downtown area, though small, is a place always teeming with activity. There are so many festivals, celebrating everything from books to beer to film, that having a festival in town is almost more commonplace than not having a festival. Besides festivals a diapason of great live music to can be found all over town. Any given night there could be a Native American hip-hop group performing at the Orpheum Theater and on the same block, a Surf Rock band will be playing at Charlie’s.

In addition, as do other many other cities in America, Flagstaff has a first Friday art walk where local artists display their work all across the city. In an article also in Flagstaff Live, Julie Roller, the organizer for Flagstaff Open Studios, put it well when she said, “You know the art community here in Flagstaff... there's amazing talent, a lot of depth and a lot of passion.”

Inspiring scenery, exploration and culture are not what drew me to Flagstaff primarily, but they are what make it impossible for me and any other adventurous person that may move here, to leave. Therefore, if Maya Angelo is right and every human being longs to be at home wherever they find themselves, one who finds them self in Flagstaff, Arizona is sure to be at home.

Flagstaff, My Hometown

I’ve lived in Flagstaff for about 14 years now. I have to say that in all of Arizona, Flagstaff is my favorite place. It’s full of some of the friendliest people and some not so friendly people. We have all four seasons and we are a right to work state. But most of all, we have a great landscape.

The reason I moved to Flagstaff was my mom was trying to get away from all of the reminders of my father; he died when I was about 23 months. We moved to Flagstaff and have been here ever since. We were only planning to stay for a couple years but after those couple of years, Flagstaff was home for us. We got along with many of the people here in the city, and got accustomed the being able to go from one side of town to the other in about 15 minutes.

People here in Flagstaff are very accepting and we have the heart capacity to let anyone in. If you need a friend, we will open our hearts to you. If you’re having a bad day, week or year, we’ll be there to give you a hug and cheer you up. The people help you to get through the day. If you’re a student at school you can bet that when you start your first day at that school, you’re going to get helped, you’re going to make a lot of friends and you’re going to fit in.

Flagstaff is no New York, or Las Vegas, we’re a small town full of great people. We may not be wealthy, but we are rich in friends and love for our community and town. We get all four seasons, which is a plus. Our education systems are potential and we get a lot out of them. We have a very popular snow resort, which brings many people to our small town. Flagstaff is my hometown because everyone and everything is tied together in one way or another. There is a lot of love here and it’s just a great place to be.

Here in Flagstaff, because of all of the seasons, our landscape is very appealing to the eyes. In the winter, we have trees that stay green, yes; it’s very nice to see. In the fall, all of the tree’s that lose the color in the winter tend to change and become very gorgeous. Moreover, in the spring and summer, the trees are extremely appealing due to all of the water that they received from the wonderful snow that we may have gotten during winter.

Flagstaff is a very small town, but we have a lot of freedom here. At the age of 14 you can work, it’s extremely easy to get a job and every place here works with your schedules very well. Most people think that Flagstaff is a small town full of rich snobs... that’s one thing we are not. We have our expectations and we like people to meet them, but who doesn’t? We’re able to lower expectations to make a new friend’s as well as we expect people to lower them to fit us in.

In addition, here in Flagstaff we get all four seasons, well, normally. The summers are nice and hot, you can get a tan and spend a lot of time around the pool. In the winter prepare to wear a lot of cloths and drive extra slow, but, if you’ve lived here for as long as I have, you’re good to wear whatever and do whatever in the winter. Spring and fall, prepare to be locked in a classroom and get an education.

Adopted To A New Life

Arizona is my home, but it's not where I began my life. Eighteen years ago, a young, single mother-to-be found herself in a daunting situation. Knowing that she could not provide for me financially, she selflessly placed me in an orphanage at birth, hoping that I would one day have a chance at a promising future as an adoptee. Little did she know that five months later, I was going to be placed with forever parents and a sister, in Chandler, Arizona. I now had a family that would love me always!

When I was adopted, I was to become the second daughter of Lee and Jayne Hendrickson and the younger sister to Jenny. Flagstaff has been our home for over eight years now, and of the three places I have lived in my life, it is definitely my favorite.

Flagstaff? Why do I feel so connected to this great city? As a little girl, I enjoyed the swimming pools in Chandler, and friends I made when we lived in Texas for four years, and then back to Arizona. Flagstaff is special to me because of many things, the climate: four seasons, snowboarding, skiing, snowball fights and sliding down Mars Hill. I love the smell of pines and the fresh, clean air...the changing leaves in the fall and the crispy crunch of pinecones at my feet. I like the location of Flagstaff, too. It's only about 2 1/2 hours north of Phoenix and about 7 hours to San Diego, maybe 7 hours to the beaches of Rocky Point, Mexico and let’s not forget the Grand Canyon, which is about 80 miles from where I live.

During my years playing volleyball in high school, it was always great to go away on road trips and be known as the Flagstaff Team. Saying I was from Flagstaff sometimes seemed to make opposing teams just a little bit envious, or at least I thought so. I was proud of my high school, (one of three high schools in town) and my team; we were just as tough as any team in the state, despite our size. Flagstaff, with the beautiful San Francisco Peaks, where the Arizona Snow Bowl is located, brings in many skiers from the Valley of the Sun and surrounding cities.

In the summertime, thousands of tourists pass through my city on their way to see the sights of the Grand Canyon, many of them driving along Route 66 and then exiting. The beautiful and well-respected Northern Arizona University is also in our city. It is so popular with students (especially those that want to escape the heat of the “Valley” that this year there is an actual dormitory shortage). My well-meaning parents wanted me to try living life away from home the first year of college, as they both did, and so far, I guess it has been a good idea, living with my best friend Acacia. I can see the usefulness of this idea, but someday I will be attending college at Northern Arizona University.

Yes, I am so lucky to live in Flagstaff. I have made long-lasting friendships here and was taught in the public school system since I was nine years old. As I begin college, majoring in Psychology, I feel lucky to experience the best of both worlds, the heat and the snow. If you have never been to Flagstaff, I think you should visit. There are a lot of shops and different places to eat to the appeal to all tastes, lots of hiking trails to explore in the winter and the summer, and there is always a concert or game going on at the college. I think you would like it here...who knows? You may want to call it your home too.

Only Place For Me

I have lived in Flagstaff, Arizona for as long as I can remember. Flagstaff is the place I call home. It started out as a railroad town in 1882 during the expansion of the Santa Fe railroad. Merchants settled here and started a town that would grow to be a desired place to live.

Flagstaff has many attractions in and around town. The Lowell Observatory is located in town and it is known for its discoveries made by the founder, Percival Lowell and other astronomers. The Arizona Snow Bowl is just a few miles out of town offering ski activities in the winter. The Grand Canyon and Meteor Crater are located just an hour from Flagstaff.

I like Flagstaff's array of seasons. The summers are nice and the winters are cold, although the weather can be strange at times. I like to say that there is no other place like it on earth. The people here are nice and everyone seems to know each other but the town is large enough so that knowing everyone cannot possibly be.

Therefore, in conclusion, Flagstaff is the only place for me. There is always something to see and something to do, great people to meet, and no other place can compare.

Flagstaff Moments

I grew up, for the most part, in Fort Madison, Iowa, a town of 12,000 people on the Mississippi River. As a teenager, I was frustrated by the lack of shopping, cultural events, and in general, the overall sense of “There's nothing to do,” but I always appreciated the absolute safety that many teens took for granted. We were able to walk alone at night without worrying about gang members or serial killers “jumping out of the bushes,” and I realized that this security was not commonplace everywhere you went.

When deciding on which college to attend, I only applied to two - University of Arizona and University of Iowa. I had a high GPA, good test scores, and I assumed I would be accepted everywhere I applied to. I was right. Originally, I decided to apply to the University of Arizona based on the fact that my family would be moving to Cottonwood following my high school graduation. My entire decision-making process between the schools was “Iowa City is cold; Tucson is hot - I'll move to Arizona.”

I moved into my dorm room three days after my family moved to Arizona, so I didn't get much of an impression of Cottonwood, but I loved Tucson. The campus alone was three times the size of my entire town! I felt that anyone you came across walking through campus could just be your new best friend. I loved this new-to-me Western relaxed attitude and open-minded quality. One of my first, and still strongest, memories of Tucson was a black man and a white man walking down the streets holding hands. In Fort Madison, I only knew of one openly homosexual man - the hairdresser. It just wasn't “acceptable” in small town Iowa to be gay.

I quickly adjusted to riding my bike to class in 95-degree weather, and joked about sending pictures to my friends at home of students lounging in the sun in shorts - in December. I majored in dance, and fell in love with the tight-knit Dance Department who expected hard work and dedication, but also treated students as family. I actually started dating, which was a new experience for me - I who had still, in high school, been seen as that same gawky third-grader long after I lost the oversized glasses and braces on my teeth.

All the same, I didn't really realize how much freer and happier I felt in Arizona until I went back to Iowa over winter break. The realization hit me that these people I grew up with would never see me the way my new friends did. Their Midwestern “we-all-must-look-the-same-to-be-acceptable” minds just couldn't see past the “dorky” phase of my childhood. I became frustrated with the lack of appreciation of the arts and progressive thinking, and couldn't understand why small town Iowans were so concerned with “the way things have always been.” Fortunately or unfortunately, I have not returned to Iowa since that trip, though I may attend my ten year high school reunion this summer.

While in college, I began to think more and more of myself as an Arizonan, enjoying the weather, the culture, the natural beauty, and the laid-back population. When I graduated with my BFA in Dance, I knew I needed to find a job, but I just couldn't see myself living someplace like New York, Chicago or Los Angeles - after all, I was a small town girl. When my mother and my boyfriend both moved (separately) to Flagstaff, I begrudgingly followed, thinking, “This is just temporary - there's no dance in Flagstaff.”

I couldn't have been more wrong. I was immediately embraced by Flagstaff's small, but strongly connected dance community. From my first ballet class here, I was told, “You should go dance with ______,” who would tell me to dance with someone else too, until I met Gina Darlington, director of Flagstaff's local modern dance company, Canyon Movement Company. While it took me a few months to find a stable waitress job, within a few weeks, I was onstage with CMC, enjoying the acceptance of a loving group of women who were just so happy to share their gift of dance with others.

In the last five years, I have continued to dance with CMC, and I consider them some of my closest friends. I am now supporting myself solely through dancing and teaching. Since moving to Flagstaff, I have taught at Coconino Community College, Flagstaff Arts and Leadership Academy, The PEAK School, Sharon Manor, Marshall Elementary, and CMC's dance studio, Canyon Dance Academy. I have never felt more accepted or needed in my life than I have here in Flagstaff. I love that modern dance concerts can sell out a full house. I love what are commonly called “Flagstaff Moments,” when you run into someone you know anywhere you are. I love that no matter where I go, I almost always turn around to hear a small, young voice saying, “Hi Miss Sarah - that's my dance teacher.” More than anything though, I love the fact that such a diverse population as Flagstaff holds such respect for different types of people - acceptance is a way of life here.

I can feel the end of my full-time dance career coming in the not-so-distant future. The arthritis I developed at the age of thirteen gets steadily worse, and I know my knees won't hold out forever. I will be returning to school in the fall to get a BS in Human Health Studies, (while performing with Desert Dance Theatre or Movement Source Dance Company) and then I would like to go back to Tucson to study pediatrics at the University of Arizona Medical School. I have always half-planned to be a doctor after my dance career - my father is our family's seventh generation MD - though I have to admit, I didn't think it would be this soon.

After I finally get an MD, I would like to return to my home, here in Flagstaff, so someday, in some park or grocery store, I might turn around to hear a small voice saying “Hi Dr. Sarah - that's my doctor.”

My First Turkey Dinner

I consider Flagstaff to be the place I call home. I was born in Flagstaff on November 23, 1977, just one day before Thanksgiving. I like to tell the story of how I had my first turkey dinner with my mom at Flagstaff Medical Center. I lived in Flagstaff for 28 years but now currently reside in Phoenix.

I grew up in a quiet family neighborhood where you never had to worry about crime. I enjoyed playing outdoors with my older brother and neighborhood friends. The summers were always just right and everything was so beautiful and green. The trees were full of apples and the peach trees were beginning to get ripe. Then fall would come and all of the leaves on the trees would start to change colors. My dad used to take us for a drive up to “The Peaks” to see the leaves on the aspen trees begin to turn wonderful shades of orange and yellow. Fall was my favorite time of the year.

I always referred to Flagstaff as a small town and as many small towns are, the people that live there are very friendly. You very rarely met someone who wouldn’t say hi as you were passing them on the street corner or in the grocery store.

The church I grew up in was also small. Over the years as I got older, I began to realize how much I loved this town. I began working as a medical assistant in a doctor’s office. It seemed to be that not a day went by that I didn’t know at least one of the patients I brought back to the exam room. I truly loved visiting with these people. They had so many stories to tell and when they found out I was from Flagstaff, I pretty much just had to pull up a chair and share with them any memories I had. They always liked to talk about how things used to be, especially the winters.

I know in my heart that Flagstaff will never be the small town it once was, but I know that today the changes that are being made are being made only to improve the way the city looks and feels. I am excited to see these changes and hope that one day after I have my nursing degree that my family and I will be able to return. This is why I call Flagstaff my Arizona hometown.

Pride

On the verge of giving birth, my mother, father and brother moved from their house in Georgia to a middle class house on the corner edge of Mesa, Arizona. I was born a mile away at Desert Samaritan Hospital, now Banner Desert. I am sure at the time my parents were regretting moving in the middle of an Arizona summer, but as the years went on they got use to the heat.

I still live in that house almost 20 years later but only visit on trips back to Phoenix for the weekend. Currently I call a dorm room in Flagstaff home. Growing up I thought it was normal to swim almost year round, to almost always have a tan and to never have to cancel a picnic due to rain. It was until I visited my cousin in Seattle, Washington that I realized the whole world did not live like I did. Every summer was heaven, my siblings and I lived in the pool, and when we were not in the pool we were out in the front yard with a hose. I lived down the street from a park and in the late afternoon we would feed the ducks in the pond or take our dogs for a walk.

My parents always thought it was important for their children to get to know the area they lived in, so many Sundays were spent road tripping to the far ends of this great state; I have seen it all. My favorite though, is the drive from Mesa to Show Low. When the sun hits it just right the desert lights up in an explosion of color.

I lived in Australia briefly in high school and I saw the way they lived and became very jealous, I grew up around a lot of cement, besides that park there really wasn’t much nature. And I became angry that most of my friends had more than a pool, two orange trees and a small patch of grass for a backyard. But then I started thinking about it and I can’t think of any bad memories of growing up in Mesa. It was all I knew and I know that nothing can top Mexican food, endless pool parties, never having to pay for a fake tan and the entire city rejoicing every time it rains. Phoenix really is a unique city.

I left home two years ago to discover my year of university and first snow in Flagstaff. I must admit I spent a good part of last year thinking I was crazy for giving up such wonderful weather to go live in the cold. But I am so happy here at Northern Arizona University. When I was looking for colleges I knew I couldn’t stray too far, and ASU and UofA really didn’t appeal to me. NAU really was my best option, plus they had my major. As you drive up the 17 you start to see the change in landscape, and by the time you reach Flagstaff you know that it is completely different from any other city in Arizona. When snow builds on the peaks, the city turns into a winter wonderland. I love telling people I go to a University in Arizona that gets snow, no one believes me. Flagstaff is the smallest town I have ever lived in and it really has opened my eyes to an entire community that really cares for each other and really caters to an athletic, adventures lifestyle. I love Flagstaff and its seasons but I also love how close it is to Mesa, it only takes me two hours to get home. I love both of my homes in Arizona and I wouldn’t trade the past 20 years for any thing.

I will move on, but it’s always nice to have pride in where you came from. It’s always nice to see Arizona on a map and say that’s my home, my roots, where it all started.

A Spot In My Heart

In Webster’s dictionary they define home as a place where a person lives. That is technically what a home is but there is more to it than that. There’s the location of the place, the people there and the feelings or experiences and maybe the surroundings of the place. No one can have one specific definition of what a home really is. That is because we are all unique, some of us call the big cities or small towns home, and it may be in a different part of the world. The truth is, wherever life may take us, there will always be one place to come back to and call home.

My life has taken me in the direction of Phoenix, AZ. I am currently attending Glendale Community College and it is wonderful here. Although I had grown up in Flagstaff, it is a change that has given me many opportunities to better my life. First of all I’m learning to be on my own, not too close to home, but far enough to experience new things. Phoenix is a place of expansion, the city itself has not slowed down they are a continually growing. There are many career choices made available to you besides the great natural features of the city. Some people are attracted to the climate because you don’t have to worry about shoveling yourself out of knee-deep snow in the dead of winter. Let’s just say Phoenix isn’t what it may seem to those not living there, it is a wonderful place to live.

In northern Arizona, there is a border town by the name of Flagstaff that has stayed close to my heart even though I am in Phoenix. Aside from growing up there, it is a beautiful place where I wouldn’t mind raising any future children. First of all my opinion would be the climate is just amazing. In the middle of summer, it’s not hot enough to where anyone cannot enjoy the outdoors. My favorite things to do in the summer would be getting together with my church youth group. We would play basketball, go to camps and swim. We did anything imaginable; those activities are the most memorable parts of my summer. I also enjoyed watching the sunsets, they leave you in awe when watching it from any part of Flagstaff; I would recommend Snow Bowl Ski Resort for any sunset. Now changing seasons, winter is a spectacular time for the locals and tourists. Anybody looking to get away for the weekend can head to the ski resort and spend the day snowboarding, skiing and just about anything you can imagine that has to do with snow. What my brothers and I would do is make our own jumps, tie our sleds to a bike, and pull each other. Then sometimes our church group would get together and play football in the snow. Now during the spring and fall, the scenery takes your breath away. There’s flowers blooming, spring rain showers, autumn leaves that makes living in Flagstaff truly a great place to live.

Flagstaff did not only have many things going on and have its amazing weather; we also have a very welcoming community. Wherever you go within the city, there are people with friendly smiles upon their faces with friendly personalities. For tourists they don’t have to be afraid for asking directions or anything, we are nice people. The town is also very diverse. There are many coexisting within the same town of different nationalities. That’s probably what I like most about the town. There is always so much to learn about the person sitting next to you at the food court in the mall or the person standing in front of you in the checkout line. It was very easy to make new friends especially in high school. It had to be one of the most challenging experiences in my life, but very worthwhile.

The town itself had so much to offer me when I had lived there. I grew up there, my family still lives there and so many memories are still present in Flagstaff. That little town will always have a spot in my heart. Even though I always told myself, “I want to move so badly”. I couldn’t have imagined life anywhere else. There are many things I could say to convince a person to move to Arizona, Flagstaff in particular, but it can’t replace another individual’s home. Nobody can take that away from you. It’s a place that wherever your path takes you, you can always come home.

Simplicity

Sure, I understand the expression, “Home is where you make it.” In principle, I would even say I really believe it. But come on. Let’s be real for a second. We all have that one place we think of when we hear the word “home.” For some it may be the town or city in which they grew up. For others it may be a state of mind, a memory of better times, a familiar face. For me, home is the beautiful town of Flagstaff, Arizona.

I was born in the greatest town in Arizona. Flagstaff, nestled at the base of the San Francisco Peaks, is the only place I will ever call home. Growing up in this majestic land, I have seen the bluest of blue skies, the most amazing desert sunsets and the brightest blanket of stars draped over the otherwise cold, dark night. Oh, the stars really are something to see. When I was younger, my family would go camping in the Coconino National Forest, just outside of Flagstaff. These are some of my fondest memories. Home is lying on my back in the middle of the woods staring up at the orb of stars rotating above our heads. We would pick out the constellations, call out the shooting stars as we made a wish for only us to know, sometimes just sit and stare in silence. In Cub Scouts, we would tell stories about the stars, even make up our own constellations to match our cheesy ghost stories. The Flagstaff night sky is a part of who I am.

I have been living in Tucson, Arizona, since the fall of 2005 attending the University of Arizona but some weekends I will make the long drive up the hill just to see the stars, as if I am going to see an old friend. I suppose when I was younger, I took this blessing for granted. It was all that I knew. I didn't truly understand what it meant to live in the “First Dark Sky City in the World,” the city in which astronomer Percival Lowell discovered the recently abased Pluto. Now as I stare up at the desert sky in Tucson I see no sign of the hazy cloud of stars of the Milky Way, stretched from horizon to horizon. The Flagstaff night sky is my home.

I will argue to my last breath that the only place worth spending the months of summer is Flagstaff. The climate is amazing. Highs in the 80s or low 90s, cool, breezy nights, and, usually, a real monsoon season. Growing up, I lived less than two miles from the closest movie theater. During the summers, I remember my friends and I would walk from our neighborhood to the theater, usually stopping at a convenience store just around the corner for cheap refreshments and candy. Oh, the simple things in life. Come to think of it, the simple things that sometimes seem to make up the entire city of Flagstaff are what I miss the most. An event as seemingly mundane and ordinary as walking to the theater was turned into an adventure. We'd race through the shortcuts from our houses to the head of the trail that would lead us to our destination, minding our surroundings and only stopping to take shelter from the imaginary enemy gunfire or sometimes to examine treasures buried by ancient civilizations. There was a canopy of giant Ponderosas above us, imprisoning the Sun's rays, only letting a few through the steel bars that stood between the heavens and earth, solid yet swaying with the cool breeze making shadows dance warily along the ground. It is so simple, but my home is the summer in Flagstaff.

Nestled in the vastness of the Coconino National Forest, Flagstaff, Arizona, is the most well situated city in the nation. Flagstaff is surrounded on all sides by wonderful places and things to see. The forest, which surrounds the city, is warm and welcoming, filled with beautiful Ponderosa pine trees, oak trees and other conifers and evergreens, it was the destination of many childhood camping and hunting trips with my family. The hunting trips, more than anything, were about spending time together away from the ordinary, everyday things that filled our lives. It was an excuse for my dad to take a weekend off from his busy schedule to spend time with me and my older brother. From as early as I can remember, these outings were something I would look forward to for months.

Every fall when the colors of the leaves on the trees would change, my family would go into the forest and take pictures in a grove of Aspen trees to send out in our annual Christmas letter. The most fantastic thing about the geographic location of Flagstaff is that if we drive two hours in a given direction, we can find anything we're looking for. Two hours South on I-17 would take you to one of the largest, fastest growing metropolitan areas in the nation – Phoenix. Some weekends my family would drive to the Phoenix area to enjoy the amenities the desert has to offer in the wintertime. 45 minutes on Highway 89 will land you at Snow Bowl Ski Resort. Snow Bowl is a sight to see, whether it is in the winter to hit the slopes or in the summer to hike the trails or take the scenic ride on the chair lift. Two hours to the north might lead you to Lake Powell, a great vacation spot frequented by my family and me. On the other hand, you might end up at the Grand Canyon. The Grand Canyon needs no formal explanation, nor do I have any words that can begin to describe the awe and wonder of this magnificent destination. A short drive south and you will be surrounded by the most beautiful red rocks of the Sedona area.

More than anything else, the people of Flagstaff make it so special to me. My family, friends, teachers and everyone else I know are what keep me coming back. Home is a tricky thing to define. It is made up of so many separate entities that it's hard to put your finger on a single place that you call home. My home is the night sky. My home is the summer. My home is Northern Arizona. My home is the beautiful city of Flagstaff, Arizona.

Dear To Our Hearts

As I prepare to walk out the door, I turn to my mother to say that I have enjoyed my stay and I will miss her as well, but Flagstaff is my home and I must return. It never fails, my mother proceeds to ask why exactly I love Flagstaff so much that I want to leave her as I stand and listen to her frustration. Every time this ritual takes place, I become more aware of my attachment to this city and how grateful I am to have such a wonderful place to address as my home.

Arizona became my adopted home in August of 1998. I was thirteen years old when my mother and I had immigrated to the United States. Undoubtedly, it was the most turbulent time of my life. We faced the brutality of financial struggles, the challenges of learning the language and the rules of an entirely different system of life. Still the most difficult part was being apart from family and the place we considered our home.

In general, “home” is an ambiguous term, it references different places and infinite variety of ideas associated with it. Nonetheless, the ubiquity of this word lies in the sense of happiness engrained in the concept. It brings a sense of coziness, associated warmth and security. Home is the place to which each person can retreat, literally or in his or her thoughts, to find harbor and in that respect everyone shares their definition with the world.

Following my parents’ divorce, I had moved a considerable number of times, so much that the word “home” had lost that sacred meaning of comfort and simply indicated the place where I slept for the next few months. Today, as a citizen of the United States, I glance at the past with that wisdom, which only comes from losing something as indispensable. I have come to understand that without letting go of the past I would have never found my present here in Flagstaff. I would not be able to appreciate it fully and eventually become the person I am. I embrace my life here and continue to be grateful to this city for adopting me.

With every walk I take downtown, I savor the moments, the sights and ultimately the sense of belonging. There is history embedded in every rock of the buildings and alleys. It comfortably shares space with optimism of our future written on faces of passerby’s. The most welcomed sight is a sight of a friend whom you meet along your stroll through the streets, who invites you out to your favorite local coffee shop to share a cup of hot tea and perhaps to split a big cookie. It has never failed to lift my spirits. The names of the streets and places chime with familiarity: Macy’s Café where local musicians refine their performances, Locket Meadows from which everyone has a clandestine memory of finding intimate connection with nature among the aspen groves, and San Francisco Street that runs up with streams of bikes, cars and pedestrians jointly negotiating their pace. Frozen frames of one’s own memories arise as strangers share their stories of making this place their home. Their reasons for staying are various; some enjoy the smell of rain, the academic spirit of this community, or watching the stars and the ever-changing view of the mountains.

Many take advantage of the outdoors, plentiful for any kind of sport and level of training and fitness. Each season arrives bringing a cornucopia of outdoor activities. The skiers and the snowboarders, who charge up to the top of the San Francisco Peaks to dive into the freshest of powder, await winter. In the spring, the rushing waters bring adventures for white water hounds. It was this city that has lead me to discover my passion for summer sports-my niche in cycling and rock climbing. I soak up this season with ceaseless appetite for the meandering road rushing up the sides of Lake Mary. I live every child’s dream to fly when I climb above the heads of pine trees at the Pit. The greatest part of it all is having these adventures directly at my doorstep. I don’t need to endure long drives and careful planning, but merely to walk outside and meet the trail that takes me to my venture.

The most inviting atmosphere always amazes travelers and visitors, at experiencing merely a glimpse of our city. There is a harmony that thrives in this place and it affects us all by bringing rhythm to the pace of life. Its melody flows through my veins with every crimson colored morning when the city wakes until the train slices the nighttime veil to wish us sweet dreams. At night, the stars are my night candles and the scent of dewy, crisp air is my coffee.

For us locals, it is a place that resonates with coziness of a community that shapes our lives. We may have different reasons for staying here, but there is one common basis-this place is dear to our hearts. We are a small community, but there is a shared sense of responsibility expressed by overseeing development, community programs and overall health of our city. We care for it because our true home is much alike our lives, we get only one. Flagstaff has made me the person I am today and in this life, it is my home.

Under The Arizona Sun

Spring mornings and summer days are filled with hikes and cliff jumping in the canyons of Northern Arizona. Kids skip school and get out of work early to go down to one of the innumerable creeks spouting out from the watersheds in and around the San Francisco Peaks, to cool themselves in the still, reflecting waters. The streams pool out in areas where rocks stack together to form jumps and slides into the creek. The contrast between the canyon climate and the arid desert make it seem an oasis in the vastness of Northern Arizona. My hometown of Flagstaff is the largest city for a hundred miles, barely even a city with a population of 60,000. It is a land left relatively undisturbed by human hands. The northeast holds the largest Indian reservation in the nation, termed the “Rez” by the locals. To this day, the US government further encroaches upon the Navajo nation when any value is found from the land. However, the land has a different worth to those who live here. It houses some of the most breathtaking sights on earth. Monument Valley, the Grand Canyon, Petrified Forest, Canyon de Chelly, and the largest continuous ponderosa pine forest in the nation, are all laid bear under the blazing Arizona sun. Nevertheless, the children don’t ditch school to visit the national parks on a Friday afternoon. They hike for miles down the creek to the perfect spot where the water is deep and the cliffs are high, and soon find themselves in mid-air falling towards the crystal clear waters that erupt under their feet. The sun overhead beats down on the kids who lie sprawled across the rocks, like sunbathing seals routinely and leisurely dunking themselves and bobbing back out of the water, with little care for any obligation expected of them in their daily lives.

Arizona does not merely consist of large deserts filled with saguaro cacti and volatile wildlife; it harbors some of the most diverse ecosystems on earth. Nowadays, people are becoming more susceptible to the slothful and materialistic nature of urban life. The typical Saturday afternoon for a Phoenician adolescent is spent at the local mall or movie theatre, widely found throughout the metropolitan area around Phoenix. Meanwhile, the Flagstaff boys and girls are wading in the creek watching their friends vault off cliffs that rise up to over sixty feet in the air. Phoenix is an armpit city, with row upon row of identical houses and strip malls made of adobe architecture. Dust and fuel fill the air and parch heat-stricken lungs. Summer temperatures reach to 120 degrees, enough to incite people to put little shoes on their dogs and cats when they take them on a walk down the asphalt sidewalks. Nevertheless, sprinklers are still set out all day so the lawn doesn’t turn brown. Phoenix spends one third of its water supply on irrigation alone, which is why it is known for its outstanding golf courses. Therefore, instead of playing outdoors, kids sit in their homes with the air-conditioning set on full blast to play video games and watch their oh-so-treasured television flicker through until morning. The children who grew up like me, meanwhile, are lying on rocks listening to the water stream by their campsite. Let me illustrate more clearly a typical venture down the creek drawn from a youthful experience of mine:

We were headed down Bell Trail in the middle of summer, hiking under the blazing sun to the spot where we had always gone. The four-mile hike runs parallel to Beaver Creek, a less widely known and traveled locale about forty miles southeast of Flagstaff. Prickly Pear cacti line the trail, which, in mid-August, flower and produce a fruit that tastes like a seedy kiwi pomegranate with the occasional spine. People could be heard from the creek as we walked along the trail. Enormous slabs of rock littered the center and sides of the creek as if chucked by giants. The water steered around and formed chutes into consecutive pools that continued downstream. This is where the less hardy hiker sets up camp for the day.

The last two miles of the trek had little cover from the sun that reddened our bare torsos, all but the skin under our backpacks and straps. When the destination came into sight, we sprinted to the rocks and threw our bags beneath a tree. Whatever leftover clothing we still had on was discarded on the way to the jump overhanging the cliff. Everyone dove in with screams and shouts, disturbing our once peaceful surroundings. The placid mirror of water reflected my falling image as I careened off the overhang and felt the familiar rush in my stomach. When my head finally popped back out of the water I took a gasp of breath and attempted to shake my hair dry. The slabs of rock that encircle the two pools create a multi-leveled terrace where one can jump from any number of places. There are several thirty-foot jumps on the opposite side of the creek, which was the direction I headed. To get there I swam to an underwater platform and scaled a wall with clefts that make for easy handholds when they weren’t soaked in water. We find new spots to jump off every time we go.

The air began to cool as the light surrendered to the darkness of the night. We put on our shirts and made a fire to cook the hot dogs and marshmallows we had brought along, as the wind steadily came down the canyon walls. We watched the moon rise into the sky and reflect in the pools by our campsite as we ate our hard-earned meal and listened to the stream cascade off the pebbles and boulders slowly meandering their way along the creek bed. These childhood memories will forever be ingrained in my mind and in the minds of those who grew up in the pine trees and on the red rocks of Northern Arizona. The southern Arizonan rarely veers far from the city, trapped in a metropolitan vacuum that steers farther and farther away from what a childhood is really meant to be, bereft of video games and the languid luxury that is now urban life and filled with natural adventure into the great wilderness that surrounds us. Nowadays, I will sometimes smell the familiar scent in the air of summer days at the creek and I will look back at the times with my friends when we had not a care in the world and not a thing to do but bake in the sun and see if we could fly.