Through the eyes of a premier writer and naturalist, see daily life on a working western ranch
While writing this book, ranch life corralled most of my thoughts and often appeared in my dreams. Working on the Tequesquite, I felt freed from all the mortgages on my spirit, all the professional demands, all the expectations of me (particularly my own), and there were times when I thought maybe I could live such a life forever. Only now do I recognize its transcendent appeal as "deep play" In the tiptoe thrill of love, or the adrenal splurge of some adventures, the heart can be satisfied often and well, but, to paraphrase Wallace Stevens, the mind never. I thought ranch life might satisfy my restlessness. It didn’t. But it did satisfy other desires: to live out a childhood fantasy and breathe the life of our frontier past, turn an analytical mind to the welcome demands of physical labor, join a ranch society closer-knit than many families. Neither time nor distance could erase such bounty.
Much has changed on the Tequesquite since I wrote this book, which makes it all the dearer. In a sense, Twilight of the Tenderfoot is a time capsule, not just of me but of the ranchhands, the Mitchells, and the land we all love.