Underlying Phoenix

Phoenix basin, view from South Mountain.

Phoenix is confirmation that we made the right choice to live in Tucson.

Some 4.2 million people live in a huge sprawl of houses, six-lane streets, freeways, shopping centers, industrial sites, and office buildings variously called Phoenix, Tempe, Glendale, Peoria, Mesa, Chandler and Scottsdale. As some Tucsonans have described it to us, it's like living in L.A.

When we were migrating between Whidbey and Tucson, we either avoided Peenix or drove through and past it. I had some curiosity about the place, but Shari wouldn't let me get off the freeway. From its many freeways, there wasn't much to see that was inviting.

Park of the Canals, Mesa.

When a sister needed a ride back to Mesa, I got to see tragically sad developments: impressive entrance gates, blocks and blocks of little houses, all pretty much the same shape, compressed together, driveways and garage doors, tiny manicured gravel yards with an occasional cactus. The most nightmarish feature was that every house was painted with the identical color.

A friend flew into Phoenix to attend a conference in Scottsdale. I drove up to bring her back home. So I can say I've also been to Scottsdale. But I don't think I really have been because Scottsdale is supposed to be impressive and I was not impressed driving its main street.

Then a few weeks back, another sister flew into Peenix to attend spring graining in Peoria. I finally got my chance to explore for a couple of days. Peenix has its attractions. The ones that interested me the most were the remaining Hohokam sites.

The platform mound at Pueblo Grande.

There was a time -- before the Corps of Engineers, commercial cotton and citrus farming, and climate change -- when the Salt and Gila Rivers flowed through the Phoenix basin year round. The Hohokam excelled in creating extensive irrigation canal systems that supported agriculture, fishing, water fowl, and the largest concentration of Hohokam settlements.

In the Park of the Canals, a somewhat shabby looking place in Mesa, one can see a remnant of the Hohokam canals. When the Merkins replaced Mexicans and O'odham to settle and farm, engineers laid out irrigation lines using the ancient Hohokam canals.

The ball court at Pueblo Grande.

The Pueblo Grande Museum, just east of downtown Phoenix, is the site of one of the largest Hohokam settlements, one that probably controlled access to the Salt River waters and therefore grew politically. It has a partially restored ball court and a large platform mound.

The museum itself is well worth the visit. Now the area is desert scrub scattered with industrial buildings, and the nearby Phoenix Sky Harbor airport looks barren and ugly. But the museum can excite the imagination to wonder how the small Hohokam city flourished among water streams and irrigated fields.

Which is what my sister's companion remarked taking in the view of the Phoenix basin from the top of South Mountain: Imagine what this vast area looked like when water flowed and it was farmed by the Hohokam.

Typical Desert Botanical Garden sculpture (on the left).

There are things to see in Peenix. Driving around trying to find Park of the Canals and then Pueblo Grande, then the motel in Glendale, I got to see downtown Tempe and Phoenix. I can see why ASU is a popular party school. Downtown Tempe is impressive. There's money in serving beer and pizza to college kids.

My sister, her friend, and I spent a wonderful couple of hours at the Desert Botanical Garden, beautifully laid out and maintained. Gourmet food in its main restaurant, an $18 admission, and a pleasant Sunday, it was crowded with better heeled sorts. The metal sculptures in the park were silly, perhaps reflecting the tastes and personal friendships of the museum's trustees. But the succulent gardens are spectacular.

There remain plenty of other sights I would like to see in Peenix, but I wouldn't want to live there.

Blog for Blog's Sake

Writing, like anything else well done in life, is a craft and an art.

For those who like to write, posts on a blog can become a personal expression of thoughts. Ideas or inspirations come and I get in the mood. I play with the ideas, thinking about what and how I want to express, and then the words flow out with a pattern of their own.

The work takes on a life of its own. More ideas come: metaphors, examples and tangents; symbols within symbols.

My favorite part, perhaps the most important, is the editing. The best editing is to take out the extraneous. Ideas become clear and a gift is made to the patient reader.

Readers may be few. Still, the satisfaction remains of writing; hopefully well. We garden, sing, cook, sew, play and paint with the slightly selfish hope that others may admire. But if others' admiration is the reason for what we do, we surely will be disappointed. I think it's good to have some consideration for how others might take in what we have done. The quality of our work is raised. But I think the practical and the ultimate realities are that we work for work's own sake.

Recently two good friends have been inspired to blog, and they in turn have inspired me. So let's all blog for blog's sake.

A fundamental tenet in most spiritual traditions is the attitude memorialized in MGM's lion-roaring motto: Ars Gratia Artis (Art for the Sake of Art). Therefore, bloggers who craft their posts can honestly consider themselves performing a religious duty.