January 22, 2010

We’re in our second week of a two-week visit to Sedona. We come here every other year in January to get out of the Pacific Northwest weather. In Week One the weather was seasonably comfortable – sunny, with temps in the upper 50s during the day. Art and I took four short hikes in the red rock country. I was gratified to confirm I still love to hike – though I’m still afraid to walk on a trail where there’s a drop-off to one side. Those cliff magnets are alive and well, waiting for their moment to suck me over the edge.

On Monday it started to rain and I came down with a bad cold. It is now Friday, the rain alternates with snow, and my cold is coming along as I expected. Arizona has experienced record rainfall this week, plus tornado warnings and, last night, a flood warning in Sedona. We’d been advised by the resort that we might be evacuated to the hotel up the hill. Oak Creek is 20 yards from our back patio. We watched throughout the evening as the water rose. Each of us packed a bag we could take. I was not fearful at all. We had a plan and I knew we could carry it out. In the early morning hours, the flood warning was cancelled, so we never got the knock on the door or the phone call from the authorities.

Why does an actual physical flood warning not bother me? Why do I say, when I catch a cold, “Oh, well, I’ll be uncomfortable for a couple of days and I’ll be fine within a week”? These are real events, and I take them in stride. But when Bag Lady says, “You don’t have enough money to ever retire”, I freeze up in fear. She and the cliff magnets must be buddies.