When I was a kid, we’d spend hours splashing in puddles and watching the clouds roll in like waves. It’s never just gray here, but instead continuously reflects the landscape like a seasoned shape shifter. Streaming light breaks through every now and then to dance on the pavement, and occasionally, snow will fall lightly on the mountains behind us. The hubs and I went for a drive with the baby this weekend and while he dozed to the pitter-patter of raindrops, I opened my window to the smell of sage and the magic of my childhood. People ask me why despite living overseas and having opportunities to move to the “big cities,” I always find myself back here. The truth is I’d miss the breathing room, and the inspiration it cultivates. There’s something about the desert that lives in my soul, and after long hours and sleepless nights, it’s the inaudible sigh I need to remind me what really matters. What about you? Where do you feel inspired?