Someone told me you can only love one of the following: ocean, mountains, or desert.

I was having a business meeting in Glendale, California. There was small talk at the beginning. I mentioned how I’d spent time in Arizona, where my daughter was playing a tennis tournament. I said I like deserts and southern landscapes.

I do. Joshua Tree. Death Valley. I’d pick these parks over any “foresty” national park — Redwoods or Sequoia — any time. I recently drove from Southern Florida to California. It was an epic road trip. We drove through Florida, Alabama, Louisiana, Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona. In New Mexico, we stopped at some God-forgotten town to get gas and food. Was it Deming? I can’t remember. I tried to remember the name when we were there, but now it’s a struggle. I think Deming. It started with a D.

Anyway, it was in the desert!

I’m not saying I liked Deming. Like I said, it was a God-forgotten place.

But I was intrigued by it…

God was present there…

On that road trip — 2,700 miles — every sight of a desert, every stop in the second part of the trip, where the temperature was more than 100F and the humidity in single digits, warmed my heart. Literally and figuratively.

I like Deserts.

Death Valley is my favorite national park.

Back to the meeting that I mentioned. My partner-to-be said that apparently if asked, people can immediately relate…