I still remember seeing the cover of the magazine. This was years ago, when I worked at the local university. Students would wander through my office looking for faculty. This particular student happened to be carrying an extreme sport magazine that I normally wouldn’t give a second glance, but on the cover was a familiar, rocky landscape.
The Big Bend.
A large part of my family is from West Texas, and, although I’ve lived in Missouri most of my life, the mountain desert of West Texas is home. I can’t explain it. The desert feels like home in a way that Missouri doesn’t. That evening, I convinced my husband that I needed to go home.