Details about "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle"
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| Animal, Vegetable, Miracle |
Animal, Vegetable, Miracle about good food begins in a quick- stop convenience market. It was our family’s last day in Arizona, where I’d lived half my life and raised two kids for the whole of theirs. Now we were moving away forever, tak- ing our nostalgic inventory of the things we would never see again: the bush where the roadrunner built a nest and fed lizards to her weird- looking babies; the tree Camille crashed into learning to ride a bike; the exact spot where Lily touched a dead snake.
Our driveway was just the first tributary on a memory river sweeping us out. One person’s picture postcard is someone else’s normal. This was the landscape whose every face we knew: giant saguaro cacti, coyotes, moun- tains, the wicked sun reflecting off bare gravel. We were leaving it now in one of its uglier moments, which made good- bye easier, but also seemed like a cheap shot—like ending a romance right when your partner has really bad bed hair. The desert that day looked like a nasty case of prickly heat caught in a long, naked wince.