Of course this is likely due more to desert living temperatures, and insta-beach envy. As much as I love the ingenuity I've seen of kids cooling off in eskies, shell pools brought inside, there's no coastal breeze to clear the heavy hot air from our homes and lungs here. Summers here used to feel like you were being microwaved, desiccated from the inside out by the pounding sun and the howling dry winds. Now they're pitched with humidity, that my tropical friends would laugh off, but I hear my fellow desert dwellers join my in loudly complaining about. My skin and my hair are not fans of humidity, neither is my brain.
Sometimes I wonder what the white settlers were thinking when they chose to stop here, sure the river was powerful and beautiful back then, but how did they envision an irrigation community standing in the red dirt of this land, why?
I wonder why so many of us that leave this place are drawn back, time and time again. This place must have some magic in it's soil that lodges in our souls even if we can't explain or at times appreciate it.
*to be fair I don't have major depressive episodes it's just a general malaise