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.