You’ll see the prequel to this story soon. But in short: the garden of our home was fine. The front garden housed a suspect mound that looked like it had a dead body buried underneath it. And we had plans for the back garden post-reno, but our vision was limited.

So it was a bit of happenstance when our paths crossed with someone who did have a vision and created a stunning landscape that takes my breath away every time I step outside.

The one phrase we shared was that we loved Phoenix’s Desert Botanical Gardens and we want that but on a smaller scale. I remember laughing as we said this and thinking. Botanical gardens—in our little home. Sure.

The other thing: low maintenance but not boring. Something that was right at home in a city in the Sonoran desert. Belonging in this desert means withstanding 100+ degree summers while getting rain dumped on it, in the monsoon season.

And this is the result. Caciti and succulents. Native to the Sonoran desert, as well as deserts along the same latitude. All of which are blooming this spring season with every colour that you’d never think to see in a desert. I have to pinch myself to remind me that this is where I live.

It’s only been about 6 months. The trees and plants have spent the autumn and winter establishing themselves in their new home. If the blooms are anything to go by, they’ve established themselves well.

The next 6 months, one year, and beyond are going to be exciting. To see how this landscape evolves and develops. Beds in even more to see even more blooming next year.

Many a weekend in February was spent getting ready for the neighbourhood home tour. Welcoming a few hundred folks to walk through our home. That’s not stressful, at all!

I have one regret of that day. Not capturing more of the day. It was challenging balancing what I needed to be for the day and recording it.

I could talk at length about everything we saw, did, ate, and experienced—as well as share all of the images. You know, the typical city scenes and moments a first-timer in a new country or city experiences.

And eventually, I’ll collate together and share those images.

But the ones I’m probably most proud of and the ones that harken back memories more than others are the quiet moments. The still lifes. The empty places.

It’s probably because those were the moments that I let myself just be in the moment in a place. For however short a period it was.

Take me back to these moments.

With less pressure to have to take a photo a day, I’m actually taking more photos. And I know that not every single one of those photos are going to be my best work, but I’m enjoying the rhythm, which is fueling my motivation.

I’ll probably start seeing patterns in my work soon enough, as I look back week-on-week. And I’m looking forward to seeing those patterns. Perhaps they’ll point me in a specific direction.

It’s still something I try to do as often as a I can, now. Less often when summer hits.

The challenge for me now is I’m seeing the same things in the relatively small patch that I walk in. Taking different routes or zig-zagging my way around familiar paths helps shake up what I see. But, the challenge is finding something new in the well-trodden.

I’m most drawn to the colours and shadows sunset brings, contrast of manmade textures to flora, and the houses. Oh, and palm trees—all of the palm trees.

While I try to avoid midday walks, they’re often the only time I have in a given day to go for a walk. Those are the days I’ll come back home with less successful images. But, those are the days I’m spending just practicing with the extension of my vision—my camera.

Do you practice seeing? What do you do?

While I’ve tried (and completed) 365 projects and weekly photography challenges in the past, I’d like to start documenting my life as a way to explore my photography style and develop as a photographer.

Without the strict framework of a 365 project of photography challenge, I’m hoping I can feel freer to try new things, make mistakes, and not be afraid to share those mistakes.

Hopefully, I can look back on these posts to start to see some trends, themes, and patterns that will help me find a direction for my approach to the photos I take.

The comments are open and I would welcome any and all thoughts and feedback. Encouragement wouldn’t go amiss either!

The Sonoran desert is known for being the hottest, but also the greenest desert in the world. I think that’s one of those things you have to see it to believe it.

Even in the middle of summer, it’s wonderful to see the desert look like this.

All of these were taken in Tucson in the Oro Valley, fairly early in the morning on a warm-ish August day. Warm-ish is probably hot for 90% of the population!

That morning light is magic. The way it hits all of the different types of trees, vegetation, and mountains.

I need to get out first thing in the morning more often.

Monsoon season is a beautiful time of year in Arizona. And it rains. Like—really rains. The temperature drops and we’ve got a bit of respite from what could otherwise be a brutal summer.

Looking back, it was a more eventful year than I remembered with some really wonderful highlights that I’m glad I have photographic proof of even if my memory has failed me.

Unsurprisingly, this year has been dominated by the home renovations, with a few unmistakeble Arizona sunrises thrown into the mix.

January

February

March

April

May

July

August

September

October

November

December

Hang on a second—I thought. I can see the whole freaking city from up here. But it was night time and I was tired. I promised myself to head back up there in daylight hours when I was less tired.

Weeks later, I do just that.

Well, shit. This is a pretty amazing view.

I was up there for maybe an hour. Watching the morning routine go on down below. People going to work. Kids going to school. And me just up there, enjoying the start of my day off, watching the world unfold.

Sad to say, I wasn’t the first who had the same idea…