For most who don’t know, my family purchased the Greasy Creek Ranch from Earl McKee, mentor, surrogate father and good friend for nearly fifty years, where Robbin and I run our cows and calves. Upon seeing the photo of the two bull calves that escaped a simple gather to the corrals for branding, he was moved to write the following poem:
My mind recalls this precious glade
Where these two youngsters lived and played,
And like years ago their ears would hear,
The trumpeting wails of their fathers near.
That trail close by, I long have trod,
On a favorite horse, these hands have shod,
We both know the song that the Robins sing,
And the sounds of the cattle, where the cowbells ring.
Where the blooming Chaparral smells so fair
And the scent of wild flowers fills the air.
Who wouldn’t come back to this peaceful place,
To see Sulphur Mountain’s Majestic face?
I too, wish I could return once more,
To what these two calves, were longing for,
God planned for this place to be left alone,
And like them, I will always say, “That’s Home”.
E. A. M. — 3/13/2015







Moving verses by your friend/mentor, Earl McKee . . . Had a mentor of my own once long ago by that same name . . .
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Interesting..
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You can hear his heart in his very words The history of place and the love of it shared. Flat landers envy the bond that time has brought you.
Thank you John, for sharing this and a bit of history of Greasy. Would love to hear more and that of Peregrine.
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Also interesting, the pigeons are gone and so are the Peregrine falcons.
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Beautiful words of love! Just from your photos I can sort of understand.
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I’m glad, Angeline. Hard to separate us from the land.
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It’s all heart xx
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Thanks, Jane, damn sure is.
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