As I've said in the past (The Cactus League), we have family in Arizona and we travel down with some regularity, maybe once a year. At one point we had (still have?) an expectation to move down ourselves, though when that'll be is still unknown. Regardless, we look at Phoenix, or in our case the 'East Valley,' more intensely than other places we travel. How we explore, and think about the area, are impacted by the possibility of it becoming our home.
From our first trip, years ago to now, plenty of aspects of desert life are jarring. Obviously it's very different from the two places (Minnesota and Maryland) we've lived up to now, which both have all four seasons and more green. The desert, for starters, with the sun and the sand and the wildlife, frequently feels to us outsiders like a surrounding of death. But more on that in a bit.
Also as stated previously, Phoenix is huge. The metro on Google Maps looks innocuous but it sprawls forever (like other big western cities, Vegas, Los Angeles etc). It takes a longer time to get places than I ever expect. But that's not it, almost the whole place is a giant, flat suburban grid. Downtown Phoenix is small, and we've barely gone there. The rest of the expanse has very few natural landmarks, the exceptions being a few big rocks like Camelback Mountain. There's Tempe Town Lake and some of the man-made canals too, but most of the time you're driving on big, always straight-as-an-arrow roads (5+ lanes on the highways, 3 lanes on the main connectors) where the most recognizable locations are retail centers.
One of the more interesting differences is how those roads work. My dad, a long-time land development civil engineer, noted on this trip, 'the developers have won the battle here' (or something to like that). They've beaten the city planners. There's an absolute ton of commercial and retail property, I'm constantly amazed by all the different chains and other restaurants in particular, and the access to them is very chaotic. Simply put, there are so many entrances, places to turn in, off the main roads through town. I'm constantly turning into the wrong parking lot whenever I go anywhere, even when I'm using navigation, because it's not always clear which turn is the correct one and the many parking lots often aren't attached. Part of this is those main connector roads (like for one example County Roads, the main N-S or E-W routes) don't have turn lanes on the right side, you just need to use the rightmost lane to turn into wherever you're going. You generally want to stay out of that lane if you plan on continuing straight. There's also considerably more uncontrolled left turns and U-turns required. It's the Wild West in a way Minnesota would never allow.
That's not the only chaos in the East Valley. Most homes, if you didn't know, are single stories without basements. We'd have a big adjustment to less space. But how those look can and do vary greatly. There'll be an HOA community, with small manicured lots, right next to a bunch of bigger horse properties, with spaces that are clearly not under anyone's supervision. Block to block, neighborhood to neighborhood will have quite different feels, sometimes even rural with older trees you might not expect (i.e. not palms). You'll often be surprised by what you'll find driving around, and do that as we get more curious about housing possibilities. It can be overwhelming actually.
The biggest adjustment, of course, would be to the climate. We've only ever visited in spring and autumn, and even then the sun hits harder. Our pasty skin gets torched if we're not careful. Noticeable is the huge change from shade to direct sunlight, where in the sun you feel like you're melting, even if it's only like 75 degrees, and if it's much colder the shade can be downright chilly. I'm realizing I shouldn't judge my parents for how poorly they handle the Minnesota cold after only a couple years away. You may know it's dry, but that has unexpected effects. My parents have furniture, including a big wood table, permanently outside. It has a roof overtop but there's never any fear of hard rain or other damaging precipitation that'll come in at an angle. There are few bugs and they just leave their doors open when the temperature is nice. Their garage is so clean I don't put on shoes to go grab something. No water, no mud, nothing to be tracked into the garage. If you do somehow get wet everything dries amazingly quickly. I really enjoy that they have two growing seasons, spring and fall. There's a ton of citrus trees too, providing a plethora of oranges, grapefruits etc. grown locally. It'd be fun to have some of that on a property of our own.
Those are the nicer aspects of the desert climate, that don't just make it feel like death. The summers where it's 100+ degrees from early morning until late at night are not something I want to experience daily. It's relentless and seen in many ways, with every playground featuring a cover, the sheer number of vehicles that are white and more. When visiting we quite like the warmer weather as a respite from winter. They, to an extent, are instead dreading the oncoming heat. While the city planners in some ways are defeated by developers, they do have a big impact on water management and green spaces. Drainage on the streets is exaggerated, they want any water falling from the sky making it into the sewers. The canals provide the only waterways you'll see. Parks are almost always located in low lying areas, where water would run anyway, and those small spaces are the only green around. The rest is all tan or beige, basically colorless like the sand. With the sun beating down on you. Then there are spiky cacti everywhere and dangerous animals (snakes, coyotes...) to be thoughtful about.
What I'm saying is, the desert is weird. It only occasionally reminded me of Dune.
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