We've been in our new home for about a month now. It's hard to believe that, at this time last month, we were hurriedly packing and cleaning our home in Fort Collins, Colorado. We were filled with anticipation and excitement, but the uncertainty of the situation also had us ridiculously stressed out.
A month later, I can confirm that we are absolutely loving our life here--but the stress remains. Almost every day, we go on "family walks" down to the creek, where we spend a while sitting by the water, listening to the calming sounds of nature.
There's something so rejuvenating about watching water gently following the path set before it--water isn't stressed by obstacles in its path; instead, it works diligently to wear them down, knowing that persistency and time will remove whatever stands in its way.
Watching the water carve smoother, simpler paths is a great reminder to me of our goals on this property. We're running a marathon here, not a sprint.
It's so easy to become disheartened by the work ahead of us: we've got acres and acres of destructive brush to remove, poor soil, and very little greenery. The number of hours we'll spend just removing the massive amounts of greasewood on our property are almost incomprehensible.
And that's just the thorny beginning; once the brush is out of the way, we have to improve the soil before anything will grow on it. Here's a look at some of the back-breaking work we have ahead of us:
Removing greasewood is time-consuming, painful, and labor-intensive. The best way we've found to remove this eyesore is to pull it out with a tow strap connected to one of our pickups. We're constantly scratched by its thorns when we're wrapping the tow strap around its base--greasewood is determined not to go down without a fight.
The plants must be removed one by one. With thousands and thousands of these plants on our property, you can imagine the amount of time we'll spend bringing this project to completion.
A simpler way to remove greasewood is to spray it with potent chemicals. It's a method that's been used by many a rancher around us with great success. But here's the problem: we're committed to practicing regenerative agriculture, which means no harmful pesticides or weed killers—ever.
So instead, we're willingly subjecting ourselves to countless hours of bloody work. Are we crazy? Perhaps. But just like there's something special about the way water carves its own path through the most difficult of landscapes, I believe there's also something beautiful about committing ourselves to doing this work the right way.
When we look at our property in the years to come--when there's no more greasewood, when the soil is improved, when native grasses and forage are finally growing--we will be filled with the greatest sense of accomplishment.
We're building a life we can take pride in; we're putting in the long hours to create an oasis for ourselves, for our wildlife, for our native plants, and for our livestock. Is there an easier route to take? You bet there is. But the easy way is seldom the most fulfilling way.
No matter how many hours it takes to transform this property into something beautiful, I know we'll never regret it. The best is truly yet to come.
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