I grew up on a cattle ranch outside of Ft. Worth, Texas. A portion of the ranch is still in the family, but probably not for long. From my great grandfather to my grandparents to my mother and her siblings to myself, my siblings, and my cousins, the property has been passed down. My sister’s husband was the last family member to manage/work the land. It’s leased to someone outside the family currently.
It’s where I grew up. It’s where I learned so many valuable lessons about how to be a quality human, how to work hard, how to take pride in my work, how to care for the land. Most importantly, it’s where I learned how to space out and endure torturous conditions and grueling labor with a nod and a grin. (It’s also where I developed my first story ideas and wrote poetry in my head while doing stuff like painting pipe fence and spraying cactus.)
This past week, I took my boys fossil hunting on the family ranch. I have fond memories of scavenging dry creek beds and caliche outcroppings for cretaceous era fossils back when I was a wee one. I mean, how cool is it to have your own personal fossil beds where you can find a decent fragment of an ammonite or a gastropod in less than five minutes? Over the years, we’ve come away with a few full ammonite spirals over a foot in diameter.
Both my sons were excited about the prospect…at first. By the time I took my second wrong turn on the old ranch roads (now crisscrossed with new oil and gas roads), my oldest son was ready to cash in his snack and head home. I tried to keep him engaged by pointing out all the things that were new and that were the same from when I had been his age. That’s when it struck me—how odd and unbalanced change can be.
The barns and the ranch houses have essentially remained unchanged over the last 100 years. The exact same metal feed troughs I slumped sacks of feed into as a twelve-year-old kid are still sitting in the exact same spots they’ve been for the last fifty years. Of course, the snaking caliche-lined creek bed in the southeast corner of the property has changed very little since the first time I scavenged it for ancient treasures. The stand of live oaks is still there. My youngest son found the ring of green trees and green winter grass, grazed short by deer and cattle, to be a wonderous natural occurrence (just as I had at his age).
And yet, the Ft. Worth skyline is pretty different. My dad is retired. Most of the windmills are dormant. And I’m never going to saddle up and ride out there again. My boys will probably never ride horses or round up cattle out there at all. I’m not a rancher. My kids sure as heck aren’t ranchers and almost certainly never will be. I’m okay with that. It’s just…strange.
I never had any problem with the work, and I loved the land. But I moved away. I wanted to see more, explore what the world had to offer. Something inside wouldn’t allow me to sit as still as the land. Since leaving, I’ve not seen as much as I would have liked, but I’ve explored Asia, Eastern Europe, and Turkey. I’ve rumbled around much of the United States and lived up and down the Rockies.
As a result, my boys’ childhoods look nothing like my own. I grieve that for a handful of reasons, but I know I should celebrate it for a handful of others. Change is inevitable. It’s okay. It’s also okay to go on a fossil hunt from time to time in order to dig up the preserved remains of the past. Ranching is soon to be a fossil of my family’s heritage. Without the land to provide us roots, it’ll be interesting to see what gives the family anchor. Without some intentionality, it’s likely nothing will.
Then again, maybe adventuring will become the new centering ideal of my evolving family.
At the Desk This Week
A merry Christmas and a happy New Year to you. For the last couple of weeks, I’ve been on the road and visiting my parents. It’s been over a year since I’ve been able to see them, so we quarantined and then braved the trek across the country. It’s been a weird but enjoyable Christmas. I suppose that’s been true for much of this year…somewhere between weird and enjoyable…at times. I’ve missed the writing, and I even skipped my email to y’all last week. Sorry about that. I’m back in the saddle but will be traveling home over the next few days. So, it might be a week before I get much writing done.
If You Wish to Start Reading The Green Ones…
[Click here to start at the beginning.]
Thanks so much for taking the time to read these scenes of Boundaries, Season 2 of The Green Ones. I’ll be publishing FREE daily scenes from The Green Ones until…I die…or something terrible happens. Seriously, I’ve got over 100 scenes written so far, and I’ll be writing more until the story reaches its natural ending. You are totally welcome to read the entire story for FREE! If at any point you decide you would rather finish the story in ebook or print format, just click the buttons below and you can do that as well. If you enjoy reading the serial releases, BUT you would also like to support me as a writer (my kids need wine!) please subscribe to my premium content for bonus scenes, exclusives, and insider access to my process. And of course, I’d be grateful if you would share this post with any of your reader friends who you think would enjoy The Green Ones. Happy reading!