Robin Boies

We count cows, calves, bulls, hay, we don’t count horses, but we do count birds! For the second year in a row we did a bird survey. It all came out of our collaborative management group. One of our members is an avid birder with some ornithologist friends. It has been a fun and interesting exercise in looking for wildlife without horns or a pelt to harvest.

Brood of Sage Grouse in Hubbard alfalfa fields. Photo by Robin Boies

Canoeing on the reservoir trying to catch up with the baby ducks .

Photo by Robin Boies

At the very end of our bird survey this year, while walking down the old railroad right of way that overlooks the river, I looked up and and saw a huge eagle's nest. It was prime eagle real estate, with his and her's outhouses on the other side of the river and a roof rock overhang that looks like an ancient helmeted soldier protecting the nest from the southwest prevailing winds.We all got excited and with binoculars and spotting scope sighted in could just make out the eaglet by the remaining downy tufts that were being disturbed by the breeze. We finally confirmed that it really was a young golden eagle when one of us saw it blink it's eye.

The parent eagles were out and about keeping an eye on us, but did not see any real threat to disturb their morning soar on the updrafts, and their general patroling. How many years this nest has been overlooking the river, only the eagles know.

Posted by Robin Boies at 10:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Like many in the intermountain west ranching community, our lives, here at the Vineyard Ranch, in the Northeastern corner of Nevada, follow a seasonal pattern. At this time we have finished our branding until we pick the slicks up in the fall, fixed the fence that was on the ground after a good snow year, made our pre-haying/ Fourth of July float trip down the river and are now in the throes of haying.

Steve Boies and Victor Gonzalez at Hubbard field. Photo by Robin Boies

We found a cook so I am off the hook in that department. I have felt just a little guilty about not cooking this summer. I admitted this to Steve the other day and he said, “ well you’d better enjoy it, you know it won’t last.” Cooks are one of the hardest jobs to fill on a ranch. Wives are the inevitable fall back position and in theory the path of least resistance.

One project that will be taking up some of my somewhat lazy summer is this blogging/ editorializing, essay, photo opportunity provided by the WFC. I have been excited about the prospect, but panicky about what in the world I’ll do.

I do have one request for you out there and that is to tell me what you would like to know about. But please don’t ask me anything you wouldn’t ask your mother or spiritual advisor. Sometimes I may pose a question to you. In fact here’s one that you can ponder, if you had a dream for the West, what would it look like, how would it behave, what would be its goals for the future? Who and what would inhabit the land? Would it play a role in the larger world community? I guess that is more than one question.

Take your time and think about it, then write to me and share you thoughts. This is supposed to be a blog you know. Plus, I am in transition and need some intellectual stimulation out here.

Posted by Robin Boies at 10:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

We all want to discover our natural voice, that part of us that reflects the core of our authenticity. That is what the poetry gathering is about; preserving the voices of rural culture, developing new voices, honoring old ones. It is also about belonging, an elemental longing of humans.

For me the past twenty-eight years have been spent raising kids, which required living in town during the school year. My salvation was my outdoor involvement in the ranch. Riding with the men, having the physical ability to work hard was my connection with the ranch. I took great satisfaction in overcoming the physical challenges that accompanied the work. I didn’t realize how much of my identity was tied to my ability to be one of the hands at the ranch. Much of that has come to an end for me. Now when I ride I look for the shortest, most foolproof horse in the bunch and sometimes feel like my husband and son are protecting me to death. I can’t say I miss the days when I would arrive,gratefully, at the bunch ground on some whinnying lonesome eight-year-old snaffle-bit “colt.” But,I do miss the sense of self-assurance and independance that being sent out on horseback to do a job gave me.

Living in these vast expanses of sky and space in the West it is easy to overlook the little things, to lack appreciation for the more mundane but critical details of ranch life. I kept a sticky note on my computer for a number of years that said, “If you study the details of a culture you will come to understand that culture.” I hope to give voice to some details, bridge some barriers and provoke some discussion along the way.

Posted by Robin Boies at 5:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)