Mama Kate, my grandmother always had copies of Arizona Highways on her coffee table and in her magazine racks. It was one of those magazines that you never tossed out. It was the magazine I could look through time and again. The one thing that always stood out to me was the Reds. The reds of the dirt, the red of the Grand Canyon and the reds of the sunsets. The towering white clouds edged in red, contrasting with the turquoise sky between. Now I realize they took the pictures of those tall massive clouds because they were rare.
In my mind that was Arizona. The Indian School on Indian School road. This was the place that my grandparents supported with financial donations all while I was growing up and we would receive little Indian dolls. This was the gift my grandmother received for her devotion to the little school that helped the Indian children learn English, math and science. As an adult I have learned that they were not all happy to be here, but my grandparents helped out of the goodness of their hearts and the faith in the beliefs of the times.
Again in my mind that was Arizona.
Today all that came flooding back when I saw a woman that had gotten out of her car on the side of the road and was taking pictures of the sky. The towering clouds with the little touches of turquoise between. Oh did I mention the reds. Because each white cloud had just the faintest hint of red and in my mind, I had just sat down on the floor with my back up against the cold marble coffee table with the Arizona Highways Magazine.
Other than wishing I too could pull over on Indian School Road as that woman had, and watch the sunset melt into the ribbon of red that it would soon become I realized I am living my own copy of Mama Kate's Arizona Highways Magazine.