When I step outside my door I smell the sweet scent of orange blossoms, gently warming with the new days sun. Some days I feel at home here, I recognize my surroundings and feel at peace. Blanketed in the aroma, and ushered through my day by a gentle Sonoran breeze. Other days I step out in a foreign place, the pink earth harder than anything I’ve ever encountered. Isolated on this sky island, I feel fearfully. Those orange blossom are an omen of what’s to come, a pleasant reminder drawing you outside before the sweltering heat arrives. So intense it makes you question why you are there and if you are cut out for it. I retreat inside the thick adobe walls of my home until the quick clouds come, rushing over with droplets of relief. Monsoons mean that we have made it to the other side. We did it, I did it.