I can understand why I like the mountains in Arizona. It is my Welsh ancestry that draws me to mountains and always has. The first time I was taken to Wales I must have been six or seven. I stood staring up at the mountain outside the window and I remember thinking "Yes. This is it. This is how it should be."
But I'm also wondering which of my ancestors decided that sunshine was a good thing? My naughty French great grandmother, maybe? I never knew which part of France she came from, but maybe it was the south? Anyway, I took one look at the mountains around Phoenix and Scottsdale and I thought WOW! And I still think that after eight years of spending my winters there. I drive out into the desert and stand in awe, staring up at the saguaro cactus. And the tiny birds that make their nests in it. And the way it all blossoms in the spring. And when you stand on a high trail and look out at line after line of purple mountains and feel as if you are in the middle of a private world.