A bird chirps outside my window. It sits on the window ledge and putters about. Saturday morning, and after a very hectic month life is finally still enough to drink coffee and stare at the chirping birds that twit around this quiet desert town. I’ve had three visitors in the past month, and they all noticed either the chirping birds or the quiet town or the desertness of the desert.
My sister got off the plane from Seattle and said, “Oh dear. But it’s so brown.” No, no, I said. Tucson seems brown, but it’s really not. I pointed out the palo verde cactus, which rather looks like a tree but has no leaves and instead green bark from head to toe (to better photosynthesize). “Oh my!” she said. “It looks like Dr. Seuss came to town.”
It has been a busy dive back into graduate school life since the lolling, movie- and food-filled holidays. I love graduate school. This is something I must continue to remind myself as the tasks pile up and as I begin to realize perhaps I have committed myself to too many interesting and exciting things this semester. It is busy, but it is fine, because I love graduate school. The busyness has me rushing across campus on my bike, and while I love all the things I am doing, I rather miss walking.
The weather is cold, the bike rides are colder, and hands are cracked and dry. I’ve taken to getting up at 6 a.m. to go to yoga or on a jog, the only time I can fit these activities in, and it is even colder and dryer still before the sun comes up. But it is quiet in the morning, quieter than usual, and in the desert, the sun always comes. Faintly at first and then melting then face lifted towards it, paused in the sun-spackled space between shady walkways; the sun arrives and it is warm.