I’d like to say that moving to Denver, Colorado from Arizona’s Phoenix Metro Area was an elegant process born from a fully fleshed-out plan months in the making.

It wasn’t.

Arizona may be a desert hellscape that should be physically impossible to live in, but it was also my home for the vast majority of my life.

I may have hated it, but the friendships and relationships I had in that state almost made it worth bearing the 120 degree summers.

A toxic cesspool in a city that feels more like an abandoned video game level that the developers forgot about years ago.

What’s not to love?

The full moon combined with some recent rainfall meant the air was clear and the desert’s petrichor smell was in full effect.

A fine send-off for a final visit to one of my most frequently-visited photography sites over the years.

The night sky on the Mogollon (MOH-gee-on) Rim is completely free of light pollution and the Rim’s vista trail makes for a great hike, but the feeling of being watched tends to eat at you.

And if the legends are true, I’m not the only Coyote up there…

The quiet desert night is unsettling alone, but it creates a spectacle for those willing to ignore their discomfort and stare up at the stars.

Three weeks. Two cameras. One man desperately speedrunning all his favorite photo spots before he leaves his home forever.