A desert day

When we arrived at this morning’s gathering to march for immigration reform, we were a little startled at just how many people were there. If there were a few hundred people gathered at Congressman Grijalva’s office last weekend, this weekend’s gathering was in the thousands. Around seven thousand, according to our local paper, we would later learn. For Tucson a city that only just reached a million people a few years ago, this is huge.

So we marched with our fellow Tucsonans to Armory Park, to the beat of tribal drums (on the march) and Mexican pop music (in the park). There was an energy to this march that was just fabulous–peaceful, determined, energized. This is no small movement here. Surrounded by that energy, I was just … really happy to live here, you know?

“¬°Obama, escucha — estamos en la lucha!”

Later, we headed out to the Tucson Folk Festival and a different (yet not entirely different) sort of energy, and we rocked out with more Tucsonans to Brazilian dance music, klezmer, bluegrass, and some of our favorite local singer-songwriters.

“Sometimes I think I choose this place / Sometimes I think that this place chooses me.” (“Goodnight Arizona,” Namoli Brennet)

Our corner of the desert has it’s problems, no doubt–the whole world knows that right now. But as I walked through it today what I kept thinking was: I love this town so much.

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