Two murals in Tucson

You started that day crawling through the hot city in your Toyota truck, a compact model that you had grown to love. You felt at home in it. On this day you were buzzing around slower cars and swearing at the stoplights you kept hitting. It was a day of errands and movement, and the air felt heavier.

You saw clouds.

You stopped at Grant and Campbell, and were delighted by a work of art on the side of an old theater in town. You smiled and forgot whatever lists you’d been fretting over in your head.

There were whales swimming, a slow dance above the desert.

You were grateful for that red light now, and stared at the mural’s details and themes, painted across the old building’s walls. A story told without words, but you heard music when you looked at it: A slow symphony. You snapped a picture to send to your family and faraway loves.

A few weeks later you were on a walk in the neighborhood, and wandered out past your usual route.

The cephalopod mural was even more magnificent when you walked up close. The contrasts in turquoise and shades of orange drew you in for a few minutes. Its tentacles loom and lure in…