Finding the Bright Side of the Desert

Arizona and I are starting to get along really well.

The first thing that struck me isn’t even something you can see—it’s the way the air feels. The lack of humidity here is like a miracle for my sinuses. Back in Connecticut, there were days the air felt like wet laundry clinging to my face. Here? It’s crisp, dry, and easy to breathe. I wake up without that heavy, stuffy feeling, and it’s given me a lower “baseline” of discomfort. Starting the day feeling lighter makes everything else easier.

And then there’s the heat. People warned me about it, but honestly? I love it. The dry heat wraps around you like a weighted blanket straight out of the dryer—warm, cozy, and comforting. Sure, the sun is strong, but it’s not the sticky, suffocating kind of heat I grew up with. This is sunshine you can live in, the kind that makes your bones feel warm and your shoulders relax.

My grocery cart is happier here too. Food prices are noticeably lower than in Connecticut, which means I can fill a basket without feeling like I need to sell a kidney. The produce is gorgeous—bright red chiles, plump tomatoes, sweet melons—and there’s almost always the scent of fresh tortillas drifting from a bakery somewhere nearby. I happened to move during Hatch Chile Season which was exciting as well.

But what really makes Arizona feel special is the culture. It’s a beautiful blend of Hispanic and Native American influences, and you can feel it everywhere—in the murals painted on stucco walls, in the rhythm of music spilling from open doors, in the kindness of strangers who treat you like family. There’s a generosity here, a family-first way of life that feels grounding.

Evenings are my favorite. The sky turns shades of pink and gold I’ve never seen before, the mountains catch the last light, and the cicadas start their soft, steady song. The air cools just enough to feel perfect, and for a moment, it’s hard to imagine ever living anywhere else.

I came here for a fresh start, and now I’m seeing the little things add up. The air, the sun, the food, the people—it’s all starting to feel like home.