Wild Cochise County

Howdy!

It’s been one heck of a month off. The newsletter took a backseat while I finally caught up on projects that had been haunting the to-do list like thirsty ghosts. But now the news is stacking up again, and the Papers will be back in full force next month with updates, dispatches, and the usual slow-roasted civic stew.

For now, a little interlude. A few local notes. And, for the first time, a poem.

Milsia Makris was passing through recently and found herself out near Cochise Stronghold, shoveling earth and stacking dreams with Rich Samartino at his earthbag building workshop. The two of them recorded a conversation, which you can find below. But something else came from the visit: Milsia sent along a poem she wrote afterward — and it sings the truth.

Sometimes we need to see our beautiful home through the fresh eyes of a visitor to remember where we are.

Arizona

by Milsia

Arizona, you wild and unexpected thing—
Spine of canyons, breath of wings.
A place where silence softly sings,
Where the sun drips gold on ancient things.

Your sky is a vault of copper light,
A steady blaze from noon to night.

You wear the heat like lizard skin,
And keep your sacred truths within.

The cactus guards what none can know,
Frogs leap where desert rivers flow.
Dust clings to boots like memory,
And time dissolves so easily.

You are the hush before the storm,
The crooked trail, the desert warm.

You call to those who feel too much,
Who crave the wind, the stars, the touch.
Out on your land, I can finally breath again—
A gentler breath beneath the skin.

My sorrow fades into your stone,
And somehow, I don’t feel alone.

You’re not polite. You never bend.
You cut, you blaze, you don’t pretend.

But damn, you hold the dreamers well—
The ones too strange for towns to tell.

Arizona, I’ve walked your bones,
Slept in domes and borrowed homes.

I’ve cried into your dried up dirt,
And still, you never made it hurt.

Maybe I belong out there,
Among your wild, untamable air—
With those who build and break and roam,
And make your fierce horizons home.

If you’ve got a poem or a painting or a stray desert revelation you want to share about Cochise County, send it my way. We’ve got room for more.

Speaking of local art, if you’ve ever driven north into Benson via 4th Street and caught a glimpse of this Kartchner Caverns mural across from the gas station, you’ve seen the work of Doug Quarles, who passed away June 30 at age 71.

Benson is home to more than 50 of Doug’s murals.

This weekend…

Down at Triangle T Ranch, the Garlic Festival is raging like a culinary bacchanalia. Garlic bread, garlic gifts, garlic trances. The weather’s perfect. The vibe is buoyant. And some ancient colossus piled those boulders up just right to form cathedrals of light and shadow — worth getting lost in.

If you find yourself floating toward Willcox, don’t resist. Those are peaches you’re smelling — Apple Annie’s is kicking off their month-long “Peach Mania”. Hector Acuna with the Herald/Review has more details:

Wild Cochise…

Acuna also reports that the Benson Animal Shelter is in flux — a staffing change and temporary closure means a lot of critters needing a soft place to land. If you’ve got room for a wild thing, check out the good people at Benson Animal Shelter and Paws and Claws on Facebook. Benson Animal Shelter is at 104 W. Harvest Way, (520) 586-3600.

But maybe you want something wilder. Something stranger.

Well, you’re in luck. A Garfield-sized mutant cat has been spotted slinking through abandoned houses in Pearce. Locals mistook it for a mountain lion, which is either a gross overestimation or an underappreciation of how swole this cat really is. Sheriff’s Office spokeswoman Carol Capas set the record straight:

And if all of this dry heat has you thirsting for a deluge, stumble into Central School in Bisbee on August 8 for a screening of Waterworld. Kevin Costner with a mullet. Jet skis with harpoons. Humans with gills.

‘90s kids remember.

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And…

Thanks for reading!