“Dear old world,” she murmured, “you are lovely, and I am glad to be alive in you.”

L. M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

Arizona has a more romantic anniversary of statehood than any other. That may make you chuckle, for perhaps you have never given much thought to the plot of land somewhere between the sweeping plains of Texas and the coastal beaches of California. Those of us who have had the privilege of dwelling within this state know she is one of America’s best kept secrets, and February 14th could not be a more perfect day to celebrate the marriage of state and Union.

“Ditat Deus!” Surely these very words were uttered from the lips of many a man first laying eyes upon the land now known as Arizona. It was penned the motto of the state for good reason and the words speak truth – God enriches. The world is intensified here: from the snowy heights of the San Francisco Peaks, to the glowing red ridges of the Mogollon Rim; from the vast Sonoran Desert floor, to the majestic Sky islands. One may very well realize they thought they knew what beauty was, until they looked upon this geography and discovered they hadn’t the faintest idea of glory defined.

We skirted in near the end, all states considered, taking 48th place. It had been 125 years since the first state entered the Union. Consider for a moment, we are referring to the 1890s when speaking about 125 years ago from this year of 2019. Does that not seem a lifetime ago to you?

Arizona had been a territory for nearly 50 years before it joined the United States. Looking back on the past, it is easy to forget men lived on this land only ever knowing it as a territory and never a state. It makes me appreciate all the more those who worked their entire lives to lay the foundation for what I enjoy now. They endured unspeakable dangers, believing the ever-present opportunity for success made it worth every hardship.

When I first drafted this post a few weeks ago, I wrote the following: “Arizona hasn’t changed in many ways from its territory days. I have to believe that over the century, there have been girls just like me. They resisted the idea of moving west, but realized it held chances to make something of oneself. They worked hard, had good and bad days, and lived life; but felt it was made all the sweeter for having resided here.”

Shortly after writing those words, I stumbled upon an obscure novel titled Bisbee Not So Long Ago by Opie Rundle Burgess. The true story takes place in the 1880s and tells of young Florence’s journey from Buffalo, New York, to the small mining town of Bisbee in the Arizona Territory. Within moments of starting the book, I realized what a little gem I had happened upon. There in its pages, I read, “But just as the sun was setting, the land took on a great transformation…the pacifying hour of the day in Arizona when nature tries to soften any hard thoughts one might have of her desert land…The whole sky seemed to turn a golden glow; the mountains were beautifully robed in a purple mantel. Then suddenly it seemed as though the mountains, valley, and sky met. It all gave them a feeling that God was trying to show them a different beauty of His land.”

As I read those words, I realized the musings drafted from the dream of my heart to connect with the history of this land had come true. Here was a girl living over a century ago, who endured a long train ride, fear of capture, and endless dust caked upon her from the jolting stagecoach ride, observing her first Arizona sunset and consequently falling in love with the land. Much in the same way did my first experience of an Arizona sunset beckon me with fingers of brilliant orange ribboning across the endless sky.

When I was young, I had an opportunity to visit the Grand Canyon. It was shocking and awe-inspiring to witness. Nowhere else on earth is there a gaping canyon quite like that one, leaving one feeling as though one was peering over a precipice devoid of air. I had never seen colors in nature like those exposed in the naked rocks of the canyon walls. Hues of misty blue seemed to rise from the cliffs to the sky, which glowed a more brilliant blue because of it. Everything was awesome and left me utterly breathless.

After I moved to Arizona, I began to realize the tantalizing beauty of the Grand Canyon was not an isolated phenomenon. Yes, the canyon itself was, but not the enchanting desert colors pervading a sort of magic in to the air. There is such a vast difference in the geography of the north, south, east and west of the state; yet hints of each can be found infused in the foundations of the others until suddenly everything flows together in to the perfect imperfection it is.

“Purple mountains majesty” is more than just a song to me. I have seen it suffusing from the mountains rising brilliant against the pastel sky at the close of day. I have gazed upon the towering rock spires in Sedona and the upraised hands of the impenetrable cacti. How thankful I am for bearing witness to such beauty!

Happy 107th Anniversary, Arizona. May this astounding land endure for all time, bringing hope, opportunity, and a chance to fall in love to many more, just as it has granted to those who came before.

Musingly,

J. R. Brierley