Say “Tucson” and something appears: a cactus, a scorpion, an airstream; a retiree in golf duds, crystal in one hand and revolver in the other.

The other day I drove out to a vast expanse of desert just south of Eloy, Arizona, where geologists recently observed a fresh, large crack in the middle of the earth.

But the real remarkable thing about this place isn’t the light, it’s the darkness. In some neighborhoods you can walk three blocks between streetlights, losing sight of even your hands.

Radio waves travel better in dry air. Something about principles I don’t understand.

Our correspondent Mike Powell visits the facilities at Biosphere 2, where, in the ’90s, eight researchers sealed themselves off from Earth for two years.

My friend Raul is thirty-six and until recently played in a band called the Electric Blankets. He lives here in Tucson on an expired Green Card.

Mike Powell is the Daily’s newest correspondent. His column is about living in Arizona.Shortly after my wife and I bought our house in Tucson, I noticed a strange growth on a paddle cactus in the yard. It was puffy and white and looked a little like …