Off the black top

Prescott and environs are much more than the rodeo or events at Sharlot Hall or on the Square. There's an entirely different world when one drives a few miles off the black top. This world does grow smaller, unfortunately, as old-time ranches are surveyed and new lines are drawn on new subdivision plats. It's ever a problem: as much as aging ranchers might love the land, too often their kids don't give a tinker's damn about the rural life. So on the market the land goes. You know the rest of the story.

I've never spent any time at a local ranch; don't know any ranch people. But friend Bobbi lived many years on on the range and periodically revisits, with her camera. Here are two recent pictures she was good enough to send me, reminders that it's a way of life that continues. And in our own back yard.

Commentary: If you don't read the comments that readers post, you really should. F'rinstance, today DDD passed on the info that tomato growers he knows like borders of datura which they claim is tastier to the voracious tomato horn worm. He also suggested that I should turn the lights off before shutting my windows so the moths move on to better moons. I plan to follow his advice!