I Did Not Want to Leave

Warm sunshiny days, pleasant visits, perfect hospitality, I was so comfortable. There was no reason to leave.

The Catalina Mountains viewed from South Cracroft and East Littletown Road.

A cotton tail scurries about the Tucson desert near Craycroft and Littletown. There were no creosote shrubs near by. My sisters introduced me to friends as, "my brother from Rhode Island". A few times I revised for the friends, "I am really from Arizona. I just have been living in Rhode Island." In my mind, Tucson, my birth place, is my home. The desert is my home. There is a scent given off when it rains. It is the scent of the creosote bush. It is a scent that conjures memories of my youth. It reminds me of home.

There was no GOOD reason to leave. Many to stay. The ingrained necessity of productivity and responsiblity were resistable. It would not become easier. It became reasonable. I picked the low traffic three day week end of President's day. "I'll leave on Sunday morning."

I do not remember passng through Duncan before. We had driven US 70 to I-10 east many times. As I climbed the hills twoard Duncan creosote shrubs became prevalent in the desert along the highway. On the way back from Cluff and Ash Creek Jim had offered to stop and let me break a branch in order to whif the scent of my youth and home. I declined. Now was my last chance. There had been no traffic in either direction for miles. I picked a desolate gravel space on a hill, broke a branch and I was on my way back.

Duncan is a pretty town set in a very pretty valley. I climbed up the hills out of it. As soon as I was on I-10 I found the signs Jim had told me were there. "MOCASSINS". Three women share the one pair that "belongs" to Fortune. The perfect gift to return home with.

Symbol of the desert.

New Mexico's flag and it's symbol.

Lookout over Las Cruses, NM. (Along the cement rock wall grow creosote.)

Highway through Las Cruses valley. (Many creosote)

I would be asked, "How was your vacation?" Easily the best.

It was more than a vacation. It was a reunion forever etched in mind and in heart, an emotion called the feeling of home.