I texted the folks back home: “I made it. All good. Love you. More soon!” The movers have left now that the truck is empty. Where are the phone chargers, the toilet paper, and the sheets for the bed? On the list for tomorrow: Get some groceries. Secure a P.O. Box and scope out where the new office is. Turn in the U-Haul after making sure it’s free from drink cups, protein bar wrappers and popcorn from the long trip….

I blew into town on May 10–literally. Fighting the high winds and blowing dust, with gusts up to 50 mph, I drove from Texas to Socorro in a truck with a car trailer behind. My apologies, as I also seemed to have brought with me internet and cell interruptions. Pure coincidence, I promise.

After a couple of days of searching through boxes, catching up on sleep and sampling the tacos and burgers in town, I reported to work at the newspaper on Monday morning bright and early, and threw down some copyediting on the May 18 edition.

Now, at the end of my first week and a half, I’m not sure what first impression I’ve made, but my first impressions of Socorro are good ones.

Things are easy to find here. There is a lot going on, from farmer’s markets, graduations and Mother’s Day lunch, to open mic, craft fun at the library and community garden workdays at Tech.
The doves call to each other in the quiet morning. The coyotes sing along at night. I have a horse neighbor and the low humidity makes my hair look good. It has rained off and on, bringing that wet desert smell to my nostrils once again, a sensory reminder of my many years of living in Tucson.

Please don’t hold it against me–I’m from Texas and part of my heart will always be filled with yellow roses, lone stars and live oaks. But Socorro has Bluebell ice cream, Shiner Bock and some good barbecue (thanks, Big Ern!). I like it too that Socorro has Russell, Cathy, Denise, Elaina at John Brooks, the nice manager at Econolodge, the sweet workers at McDonalds, and a wee dog friend named Peanut. I think I’m going to like it here.
I can only hope that Socorro will like me.

Jay Ann Cox