John and I left California for the first time since our arrival last September (the 4th, actually, we have an anniversary soon) on Sunday. We drove as far as Barstow Saturday night, then went the rest of the way to Williams, AZ, on Sunday. We met my parents there, who were, by then, experts of the neighboring town of Flagstaff. They shuttled us around to the very cool Lowell Observatory, where Pluto was discovered, and Walnut Canyon National Monument.

The next day, we rode a steam train to the Grand Canyon. We stayed the night and most of the next day at the canyon before riding the train back to Williams.

On Wednesday, we visited Sunset Crater, NM, and Wupatki, NM, both of which were really beautiful and very interesting.

In other words, we saw a lot. And it was all educational and inspiring and beautiful...all the things the National Park Service is all about.

I didn't want to go home. More accurately, it all made me want to go home, but not back to California.

I heard crickets. They sang me a lullaby.

I. Saw. Stars. A whole sky of them. I literally cried when I saw how full the sky was with stars, rather than smog and light. I saw the big dipper and the milky way.

It's always been easy for me to romanticize the place where I'm not going.

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