Las Cienegas NCA / Empire Ranch, AZ

Between Cedar and Oak Tree Canyon a heifer shuffles off, her molasses licking disrupted by our approach. Her body a rug of black, her walk ambling. The road branches off to the left, I rein the horse that direction and give him a slight nudge. He walks slowly now after several days of riding.

Sunset at Empire Ranch, AZ - Las Cienegas NCA

And it’s a slow descent into these gentle canyons – not canyons like I’ve known at home in the Big Bend with their towering walls and sheer cliffs – but inviting, rolling tongues of green and yellow grass, arching with each breeze as if pointing the way to Cienega Creek below.

A glance downward and to the right reveals a rusty, old water trough disguised by overgrowth, remnants of the great Empire Ranch that once was. The ground on either side, red and full of rocks smooth and tumbled.

A wire gate hangs like a broken accordion stretched between two trees, no longer able to stand upright and the horse is nervous by its stature, or lack thereof. I dismount, tie him, and he stands waiting, reaching down every now and then to sample the buffet below.

I open the gate then sit for a moment, legs crossed, tucked up under me, determined to remove a brooch from my hip bag, picking at it with a bear claw knife. The ornament hangs too loose and no longer fits, being something I added long ago in another life. Now I care more about the bear claw than the bling. Finally, it loosens, I bury the piece inside my leather pouch and think of it no more.

We carry on.

Cienega Creek, Empire Ranch, AZ - Las Cienegas NCA

The creek is shade ridden but dry, only a few large mud puddles to show for herself. But still, there is a heart in her, a new life fresh and green along her banks, an air light and effervescent above, floating through the Cottonwoods who in turn sing out – a melody of wind chimes and rain, of angels.

Of hope.

What else could I do but sing with them?