In the foothills of Scottsdale Arizona, Taliesin West stands as a testament to Frank Lloyd Wright's vision of organic architecture. The drive in through a single lane road brings you into a new state of mind before reaching the front entrance.

Etched next to a petroglyph-covered rock is an excerpt from the Walt Whitman poem “And Thou America”:

“Thou, too, surroundest all,
Embracing, carrying, welcoming all, thou too
By pathways broad and new approach the Ideal.

The measured faiths of other lands,
The grandeurs of the past, are not for thee,
But grandeurs of thine own,
Deific faiths and amplitudes, absorbing, comprehending all,
All in all to all.

Give me, O God, to sing that thought,
Give me, give him or her I love this Quenchless faith in thee.
Whatever else withheld withhold not from us
Belief in plan of Thee enclosed in Time and Space.”

Established in 1937, this National Historic Landmark served as Wright's winter residence and laboratory, embodying a harmonious blend of innovative design and natural materials. Constructed using "desert masonry"—a combination of local stone and sand—the structure seamlessly integrates with its surroundings, reflecting the rugged beauty of the Sonoran Desert.

The journey begins at the drafting studio, where wide glass windows frame the desert beyond, blurring the boundary between structure and nature.

The blueprint is 1 of the 36 in the 1953 presentation set produced for Harry Guggenheim, museum founder Solomon R. Guggenheim’s nephew and longtime Guggenheim Foundation president. The drawing illustrates the relationship between the two ramps in plan: overlapping circles. This intersection of pure forms was archetypal of Wright’s design process.

Outside, an edge parameter walkway leads to triangular pools mirroring the sky and the mountains in the distance, their still surfaces punctuated by the occasional ripple of desert wind.

A contemplative pause at the triangular pool and 45 degree turn into shaded walkways marks the locale’s halfway point, completing in next week’s writing. A peacefully stepped oasis, it is.

Civic Space Park glows through canopy as evening engulfs skyscrapers and cranes. Centrally suspended like a jellyfish bloom is the billowing form by artist Janet Echelman.

The structure, supported by steel and stretching high above surrounding trees, transforms with the elements and responds to the wind and ambient light. Inspired by Arizona’s monsoon clouds, it’s a piece that doesn’t impose itself on the landscape but instead moves with it.

Watching it slowly undulate, I thought about patience and the way things edify over time.

The sculpture doesn’t fight gravity, rather finds natural shape in the tension between forces. Sometimes, remarkable things emerge when we allow space to breathe with time.

Straddling the Arizona Canal at the base of the Phoenix Mountains is the Phoenix Bat Cave. Parking is sparse and along side streets in the nearby residential area.

I showed up around 8pm as the sun started its dip below the horizon line and the crescent moon had taken its place. Walking parallel to the aqueduct for about 50 yards convenes with a nocturnal group of onlookers.

The place is a hidden gem, with the only signs related to the migratory and social patterns of Arizona bats on the overpass fence. The Mexican Free-Tailed Bat is most common, with 10,000 to 20,000 flocking to the area from May to October en route to Central America.

After waiting about 10 minutes, they started emerging as clusters, building to a steady stream of quiet exodus.

It’s important that places like these are built and preserved, as bats are critical to the balance of the ecosystem with their diet of insects, as well as pollination of cacti and agave.

Between the cities of Phoenix and Scottsdale sits Papago Park. Within the patch of waterways and walkways on the eastern corner is a locally-recommended vista on the Hole in the Rock Trail. I waited until evening to go, as temperatures were over 100 Fahrenheit during the afternoon.

It’s a jaunt up rows of cobbled steps to the opening on the other side.

I conversed with folks on the path for several minutes to ripen the timing. The payoff of gazing through the portal as the sun swelled a rich orange over skyscrapers and palm trees sprouting from the dusty horizon was worth it.

Walking down the frontside is more steep, and a faster way to the beginning of the trail head. A small crowd was mingling by the time I made it to the bottom of the hill.

The way everyone was grouped on the rock face staring at the sun spoke an interesting echo to how we socialized outside of caves and monoliths before screens and cities. Places like these curate healthy and spontaneous connection.

Route 89A west through Cottonwood takes you back into the desert into a unique mining town perched on the top of Cleopatra Hill. Jerome was born a copper mining camp, growing from a settlement of tents into a roaring community.

After its founding in 1876, Jerome was at one time the fourth largest city in Arizona with the population peaking at around 15,000 in the 1920’s. The Great Depression slowed the mining operation and the claim eventually went to Phelps Dodge, who still holds the claim to this day.

Today the mines may be silent, but Jerome has found new life as the largest ghost town in America. The steep drive up the narrow road passes by quirky shops, landmarks, and restaurants, concluding at Jerome Grand Hotel.

Walking over to the narrow parking lot over the cliff, you can peer down Cleopatra Hill to the town entrance road.

Descending down the hill from the hotel gives you the option of taking an alternative route back, which passes by more historical building and shops to the long abandoned Sliding Jail.

The concrete cell block was once part of a wood and tin building, but pulled away from the rest of the structure after some underground blasting in 1938 shifted the ground beneath a substantial portion of the town

Continuing the rest of the way down the hill, one last landmark along the perimeter is the Audrey Headframe Park.

Since he had obtained an option on the company in 1912, James S. “Rawhide” Douglas had dug in vain, counter to the advice of his own geological experts and others who claimed that the mine would never be profitable. Against all odds, Douglas persisted, and finally in December of 1914, with his corporate resources almost exhausted and much to the dismay of the mining world, his crews ran into the incredible deposit.

Before heading to the Gold King Mining Town nearby, a look across the valley to Jerome is a reminder of people’s ingenuity to build better into the present, even if it started rough around the edges.

Route 260 North takes you from Camp Verde towards Verde Village and Cottonwood. North of both towns the Verde River carves a valley along roadways until giving way to a Pueblo on a hill, in contrast to the cliffside dwellings nearby.

Construction started around the year 1000, expanding into 4 different sections and eras of building over the next 400 years.

During the excavation of Tuzigoot pueblo, trade items and materials from hundreds of miles away were found. Distinctive regional pottery from many different communities across the southwest was found here, as were seashells, exotic minerals and paints, obsidian from distant volcanoes, and feathers from macaws, which are found from southern Mexico into the Amazon basin of South America.

Take nothing but pictures, leave nothing but footprints….

Heading into the topmost chamber of the settlement, which is rebuilt with walls and a ceiling, is a reprieve from the hot sun of mid-day. Standing on the roof is a pleasant view of the valley and nearby Cottonwood in the distance.

Interstate 17 southwest towards Camp Verde breaks south to Montezuma Castle Highway and Montezuma Castle Road, leading to the cliff dwelling itself.

Established December 8, 1906, Montezuma Castle is the third National Monument dedicated to preserving Native American culture. This 20 room high-rise apartment, nestled into a towering limestone cliff, tells a story of ingenuity, survival and ultimately, prosperity in an unforgiving desert landscape.

A presidential Proclamation was signed by President Theodore Roosevelt setting aside 160 acres to preserve it as a national monument.

There is a loop pathway you can walk around to view a neighboring pueblo dwelling before getting to the castle itself, so I started by walking over to “Castle A”.

A pueblo with about 45 rooms in multiple levels once stood against this cliff face. The upper row of sockets reveals the roofline of the fifth and highest level of the structure.

Archeologists excavated this site in the 1930s, removing the rubble and reconstructing these lower rooms. They determined the pueblo had burned, causing it to fall away from the cliff.

As you walk a bit further down the path, you are finally greeted by the impressive group habitation of the Sinagua. Functional in placement, and a testament to co-habitation and co-existence with the elements.

…the dwelling at Montezuma Castle is actually a collection of 20 rooms originally belonging to multiple families, similar to a modern-day apartment building. Other apartment-style buildings called pueblos, like those found at Montezuma Well and Tuzigoot also had multiple rooms and were built with local materials.

Heading south of Sedona on 179 South crosses over Interstate 17. Afterwhich, the broken asphalt dissolves into dirt and mud on Forest Service Rd 618. Eventually you come to the entry for V Bar V Ranch, which has recently been renamed to Crane Petroglyph Heritage Site.

The location is the largest known Petroglyph site in Verde Valley, and the highest concentration on a single vertical wall I’ve encountered in the United States.

A path leads a quarter mile into the desert brush to over a thousand densely organized forms covering a twenty-five yard section. It’s an impressive combination of three petroglyphs types: human, animal, and geometric.

There is a curious group of rocks above the left side, which on a sunny day casts crisp shadows onto a series of drawn steps along the top of the wall. Researchers believe it is a solar calendar that reveals a planting schedule.

On the Summer Solstice, the left edge of the rock shadow points to the steps associated with planting summer crops. By the time the shadow points to the end of the steps, there is a jagged line which turns into a spiral. Researchers believe that denotes the end of crop planting and beginning of the rainy season.

It’s quite a feat to observe shadows moving over the course of a year, and another to etch lines to track movement conducive to group survival. And that is how it’s done: Steadily, over time, with intention.

Sedona is a magical town. I took the northern entrance on South 89A from Flagstaff. Nestled at the foot of Capitol Butte, the main street conforms to the bobs and weaves of the landscape.

If you continue further south, the residential areas dither out to showcase The Chapel of the Holy Cross. A pilgrimage for some, and a structure unique enough to be recognized by the Department of the Interior.

The Chapel of the Holy Cross was commissioned by local rancher and sculptor Marguerite Brunswig Staude.

In 1932 she was inspired to build such a church by the construction of the Empire State Building. Staude initially attempted to do this in Budapest, Hungary with the help of Lloyd Wright, son of architect Frank Lloyd Wright.

The entrance into the chapel is an open cube flanked by plaques marking its significance on the National Register of Historic Places, as well as a Landmark for Sedona.

Once inside, a still reverence takes over the space.

After exiting down the walkway you can turn left and take in a crow’s nest view of the area. The chapel in the red rocks was a welcome pause to the day’s distance and travel.

After seeing many of Mary Colter’s creative endeavors in Grand Canyon National Park, there was one more place on the checklist in Winslow Arizona: La Posada.

Mary Colter envisioned La Posada as the grand hacienda of a wealthy Spanish landowner, whose family lived here for 120 years, occasionally expanding the hotel until it finally resembled the structure we see today. This fantasy guided every aspect of her architectural design.

As soon as you enter through the hand-painted gateway, the textured array of plant-life, teal doorways, and orange peel tiling accenting off neutral tone Pueblo-style walls welcome all weary travelers.

The narrative expands, setting the stylistic tone from the distressed rafters to the worn brick floors of the main hallway connecting the wings of the establishment.

The oldest part of the home—the central two floors—rose like a dream adrift in a sea of wild sage. The second Don Pájaros grew the herd to 20,000 head, watering greedily from the headwaters of the Little Colorado all the way to Grand Falls, and added the east wing (now the dining room and railway offices) as the ranch quarters.

La Posada, The Plaza, and The Castañeda all have a Trading Post, with an extensive collection of regionally curated arts and crafts. It’s easy to get lost and spend a majority of time there.

There is a wall dedicated to the 20th century personalities that frequented the location when through-traffic was higher from the Santa Fe Railway. Some notable ones are Albert Einstein, Amelia Earhardt, Franklin D. Roosevelt, Betty Grable, and Johne Wayne.

Upon exiting out of the back doors you can loop back to the entrance courtyard. As suggested by the iron door handles, enter silently and depart peacefully. A proper resting place it is.

50 miles northeast of Flagstaff in the Painted Desert is the Roden Crater. It is the site of the ambitious terraform installation by James Turrell.

…located in the region of Northern Arizona, it is an unprecedented artwork created within a volcanic cinder cone by light and space artist James Turrell. Representing the culmination of the artist’s lifelong research in the field of human visual and psychological perception, Roden Crater is a controlled environment for the experiencing and contemplation of light.

The site is closed to the public, but I figured it would be interesting to see how close one could get. The deep blue sky was clear with inconsistent wisps of clouds, projecting martian-like shadows on the rolling hills of Route 40.

Turning left off puts you on Leupp Rd. After an additional 20 minutes of narrower lanes, a left onto an anonymous dirt trail crawls through a pasture into increasingly rough terrain. Nearer to the crater, there is too much volcanic rock for regular-walled tires to maneuver without punctures.

This journey was going to pause here. Navigation marked at 15 minutes from Roden Crater itself. That was ok. The drive there was halfway to Winslow, the final destination for the day. Sometimes the full picture completes in brushstrokes.

When Roden Crater is complete, I plan on coming back.

West of Flagstaff is Mars Hill, which sets at an elevation of 7200ft overlooking the city. Built on the same location is the Lowell Observatory, whose primary mission for over 125 years is the study of the Solar System and its procession through time.

As I entered in through the front desk, all were informed a tour would be starting and to meet at the Rotunda Museum.

The guide lead everyone up a pathway southwest to a large white silo keeping the 24” Clark Refractor from the elements. I had a keen interest in this ocular, as Percival Lowell himself peered through it to observe the surface of Mars.

Lowell soon built a cultural consciousness of Martian life, so that to many people, such extraterrestrial intelligence was a foregone conclusion. This idea found its way into the minds of writers, where the developing genre of science fiction incorporated some of Lowell’s ideas.

Displays surrounding the telescope detail further notes, drawings, and models of the red planet.

Outside the back exit from the refractor is Percival Lowell’s Mausoleum, sculpted into form factors scientific and divine. A quote captures a wanderlust for all things planetary, philosophical, and cosmic.

EVERYTHING AROUND THIS EARTH WE SEE IS SUBJECT TO ONE INEVITABLE CYCLE OF BIRTH GROWTH DECAY… NOTHING BEGINS BUT COMES AT LAST TO END… THOUGH OUR OWN LIVES ARE TOO BUSY TO EVEN MARK THE SLOW NEARING TO THAT EVENTUAL GOAL… TODAY WHAT WE ALREADY KNOW IS HELPING TO COMPREHENSION OF ANOTHER WORLD. IN A NOT DISTANT FUTURE WE SHALL BE REPAID WITH INTEREST AND WHAT THAT OTHER WORLD SHALL HAVE TAUGHT US WILL REDOUND TO A BETTER KNOWLEDGE OF OUR OWN AND OF THE COSMOS OF WHICH THE TWO FORM PART…

THE EVOLUTION OF WORLDS. PERCIVAL LOWELL