When my wife and I lived in Los Angeles county, we would often make the seven (7) hour drive from Pasadena to spend the weekend at a local Prescott bed and breakfast a few blocks west of the downtown area.

It was tough for us to load the suitcases into the trunk of the car, and then to drive away, leaving behind the beautiful, peaceful and serene atmosphere of this place as we headed south on White Spar Road. Behind us Courthouse Square disappearing into the rearview mirror. All the while we would be hoping, wishing and all the while determined that we would make the break from the big city life and move to this beautiful place to raise our children, while they were still young.

While visiting on our weekend getaways, we would find Prescott homes for sale, pulling over to grab a flyer from the real estate signs of properties on the market. We would get out of the car and listen to the sounds of the birds chirping in the branches above, taking in deep breaths of the fresh mountain air and imagine that we were home.

I always noticed how green the grass was in front of the Prescott homes when we were just visiting. I noticed how much pride and care the owners took of their well maintained and manicured lawns and bushes, I noticed how the trees cast gorgeous shadows across the lines where the pavement bordered the lawn and I dreamed that one of these homes here in Prescott would be ours.

It ended up being five years from the first time we drove through town, spending a night until the evening the day before Thanksgiving that we arrived, 10:30pm, snow still falling two inches deep, with our second car in tow behind the moving van. It was on this night that we arrived in Prescott for the first time as its newest residents, no longer just weekend vacationers with a dream of owning one of the Prescott homes for sale.