I am visiting my sister in St. George, Utah this week while she recovers from her recent surgery. Mostly I am the chauffeur since she isn’t cleared to drive yet, but I do a little cooking and fetching/carrying too. It’s actually a pretty relaxing gig. I keep telling here that she is easier than just about any babysitting job I ever had.
And, oh, but the desert is doing it’s level best to charm me this week. I am not normally a desert sort of girl. The Art Director likes the dramatic, sweeping panoramas you get out here. But, whenever we play the where-we-would-live-if-the-stars-aligned-just-so-and-we-could-live-anywhere-we-wanted game, I always nix the Southwest on the grounds that I would have to bath in lotion and run sixteen humidifiers just to keep my skin from seceding from the union.
No, I generally like it green and wet, but even I have to admit that views like this have something to recommend them:
The skies have been impressively, perfectly azure practically everyday with adorable, little puffy clouds for contrast.
I was expecting a dusty, grey little town like the desert towns in California and Nevada that I am more familiar with, but St. George is more like something I would expect in New Mexico, all earth tones and pinks. It’s rather nice, and I am enjoying the break from the cloying humidity we were getting before I left Durham.