BrooksLooks@ Green Lights

b858b4ceee59e35c5695fa61ceed8310When All the Lights Turn Green

when the time
is right
and it’s time to go
to seize the day
you finally know
new horizons
calling
to places not seen
as the past
becomes a distant view
when all the lights
turn green
adventure lies
in moving forward
before they change
to caution’s glow
ride the wave,
be brave live on
face life’s
ebb and flow
new horizons
are calling you
to places
you’ve never seen
the past becomes
a distant view
when all the lights
turn green

© Copyright 2015 Brooks Bradbury

BrooksLooks@ Being at Odds

Being at Odds

i was at odds with the world today
and it was at odds with me
it didn’t go where i wanted it to
nor was i where i wanted to be

i’m going to call it an early night
to try and break the spell
out of sorts i can hardly think
please let tonight go well
so tomorrow we’re back in synch

i was at odds with the world today
and it was at odds with me
it didn’t go where i wanted it to
nor was i where i wanted to be

© Copyright 2015 Brooks Bradbury / BrooksLooks

BrooksLooks@ The Way the Wind Blows

The Way the Wind Blows

tell me how
to read the signs
the subtle messages
amongst the tea leaves
and between the lines

give me time
to solve each riddle
feel the vibe
of each vague transmittal
including those
i can’t describe

when i listen
help me know
the rising tide
the wind’s direction
life’s ebb and flow

help me thank
distant admirers
for their support
when i’m out of touch
or cross my wires

we press on
against the odds
and try to see
around false facades

occasionally
i catch a glimpse
have a clue
when the view is clear
only then i’m certain
what’s really true

as the years move on
and our life together
geo-scatters
i realize now
what really matters

the winds may blow us
hither and yon
but it’s always you
i count on

© Copyright Brooks Bradbury / BrooksLooks

BrooksLooks@ Dark Matter

Dark Matter

they say this all started
with a great big bang
fire and rain
yin and the yang

millenia passed
left plenty of clues
like how we crawled out
of a primordial ooze

we’ve come so far
to get to where we are
on another lap
around this old star
where are we headed,
will we ever arrive?
gravity bound
to live and die

still we fight
over border control
incivility takes a tragic toll
hate for hate’s sake
how much more can we take
religious divisions
deep and dark
and the rising tyranny
of the oligarch

are we dumb as a box
of asteroid rocks
after eons of years
dark matter appears
much of it lies
between two human ears

blind-sided
will we ever find
a way around
the dark matter found
in a dangerous mind

© Copyright 2015 Brooks Bradbury / BrooksLooks

BrooksLooks@ Inhospitable

Inhospitable

if we put down the double latte
move away from our little screens
try to become human again
if we remember what it means

generous employers decades ago
provided commendable steady work
benefits, pensions, and raises earned
without armed workers gone berserk

honorable employees decades ago
gave a lifetime of blood and sweat
they earned each precious benefit
the ones we no longer get

the social contract fractured
when money became the goal
now we see where it’s all leading
as we face the social toll

we’re all out on the run today
searching for what it all means
thankful for our friends and family
for lattes and little screens

© Copyright 2015 Brooks Bradbury / BrooksLooks

BrooksLooks@ Snake in the Road

Snake in the Road

it started with a garter snake
flattened in the street
the harmless little garden kind
whilst squished, was rather neat

“they’re the good ones” people quip
“they couldn’t ever hurt”
like the big fat slithery black ones
down there in the dirt

let them go their merry way
in the herpetological code
but it’s open season on the highway
when they’re stretched across the road

in Appalachia
them copperheads can make someone think twice
the poison ones come at ‘ya
them timber rattlers ain’t half as nice

but out in Arizona
the snakes have all turned pro
so you better watch out, out there
if that’s where yer plannin’ to go

see there’s twenty kinds of diamondbacks
that stare out of those rocky cracks
and that lightnin’ fast Mojave kind
say your prayers when one attacks

sonoran racers and whip snakes
are colorful and mellow
but a coral snake bite is all it takes
‘cause “red and yellow kills a fellow”

it’s a queasy kind of feeling though
for even a ranch-worn drover
who sees a diamondback with tire tracks
when his pickup runs one over

there ain’t no moral to the tale
when it comes to deadly snakes
avoid ’em on the trail fer sure
on the road avoid them brakes

© Copyright 2014 Brooks Bradbury / BROOKS LOOKS

BrooksLooks@ Insha’Allah

Insha’Allah

don’t tell me it’s about religion
all i see is evil on the rise
violent false bravado
in a madman’s mad disguise

so keep your eyes to Allah
so you’ll know when the time is right
to kiss your jihadi ass goodbye
when the drones fly over at night

die you radicalized league of fools
as you revel in your lies
tell them over and over again
until each suicide bomber dies

just try to threaten freedom’s reign
our free speech never lost in vain
if you choose to kill
because you think it’s Allah’s will
your religion so aggrieved
you’ll die a gruesome death deceived

so best keep your eyes to Allah
to know when the time is right
to kiss your jihadi ass goodbye
when the drones fly over at night

© Copyright 2015 Brooks Bradbury

BrooksLooks@ Kaleidoscope

Kaleidoscope by Brooks Bradbury

Kaleidoscope

running away
beyond these walls
smashing the glass
i scream in sterile halls

at the end of my years
i’m full of fears
so many tears
each piece of my life
was once crystal clear

now like shards
of colored glass
that tumble together
in time’s impasse

endless shapes
roll round and round
bits of my memory
broken, lost
no longer found

unfamiliar patterns
as i move from the light
darker by the moment
my soul’s final fight

unsteady hands
the pieces keep
turning, moving
i no longer know
i’m no longer improving

[she walked to where
the circled chairs,
a familiar stranger,
her husband of 50 years–
was waiting there]

tell me who you are again?
will you help me see?
did i know you once?
were you kind to me?

won’t you sit a bit
and talk with me a while?
hold my hand
i think that once
i knew your lovely smile

my spirit shattered
i’ll escape today!
over the wall
beyond my fears
if i break this glass
i’ll get far away

leaving shards
of colored glass
to tumble together
in my last gasp
endless shapes
go round and round
bits of memory
lost, remaining now
forever un-found

wait for me
i’m still right here
all my heart
all my fears
uncertainty and tears
where is my home?

when can I go home?

Dedicated to Dot & Frank and to The Elms’ Chestnut Cottage, Memory Care Alzheimer’s Disease Unit, Westerly RI

© Copyright Brooks Bradbury 2015

BrooksLooks@ Innkeeper! Innkeeper!

innkeeper! innkeeper!
rent me a room!
find me a suite!
we’ll be there soon!

innkeeper! innkeeper!
can we check in at noon?
the best room you’ve got!
will our dreams come true?

innkeeper! innkeeper!
it’s all up to you!
we need a king bed!
and an ocean view too!

innkeeper! innkeeper!
we need a break!
you’re our only hope!
or how could we cope?
are you near a lake?
we need twelve extra towels!
and plenty of soap!

innkeeper! innkeeper!
we won’t ask for more!
1,200 count sheets?
oh, by the way i snore!

innkeeper! innkeeper!
when do YOU ever sleep?
is this all you do?
did you buy the inn cheap?

what a dream job you have!
to schmooze all day long!
and not do a thing!
hey, what could go wrong?

innkeeper! innkeeper!
if it’s not too much for you!
a morning wake up at 4!
and a late check-out too!

innkeeper! innkeeper!
thanks for a really great stay!
is this really my bill?
how could I ever pay?!
do you take trav’ler checks too?

innkeeper! innkeeper!
what a great room!
our stay was so sweet
we’ll be back again soon!

© Copyright 2014 Brooks Bradbury

BrooksLooks@ Celebrating a History of Primland

Celebrating a History of Primland

Written for and Presented during the Grand Opening of the Lodge and Spa at Primland, August 2009

THIS WAS THE HOME OF NATIVE SONS AND DAUGHTERS
WHERE NATURE FLOURISHED BY CRYSTAL CLEAR WATERS
A BEAUTIFUL BLUE RIDGE OVERFLOWING WITH LIFE
EXPLORED CENTURIES AGO BY BOW AND ARROW, AND KNIFE

A DIVINE INSPIRATION OF EONS AGO
GOD SMILED AT HIS WORK FROM THE BLUE RIDGE BELOW
SETTLERS CAME AND STRUGGLED, STRONG WINDS WOULD BLOW
CROPS WERE HARVESTED, CORN LIQUOR WOULD FLOW

YOU MIGHT THINK IT A RANDOM, UNLIKELY CONNECTION
SUCH A WORLDLY SOUL WOULD ARRIVE FROM A DISTANT DIRECTION
THAT ONE DIDIER PRIMAT OF GENEVA WOULD FIND HIS WAY HERE
A GREAT CANVAS OF LAND AWAITED AS THE ARTIST APPEARED

AND IN ‘77, THIS GIANT OF A MAN SET TO WORK
HE PURCHASED THIS LAND COMMENCING SLOWLY AT FIRST
ABOVE ALL NATURE WAS CHERISHED—IT WOULD EVER REMAIN SO
AS KINDRED SOULS WILL DISCOVER UP ON BUSTED ROCK ROAD

IT BEGAN WITH AN IDEA—HIS REMARKABLE VISION TO UNFOLD
PRIMLAND WAS BORN, IT WAS BIG AND IT WAS BOLD
HE INTRODUCED PRIMAT’S TO VIRGINIA AS FAMILY STORIES WERE TOLD
A GLIMPSE OF THIS FUTURE WAS THEIRS TO BEHOLD

PRIMLUMBER WAS BORN IN 1977
BUNDLES OF ‘PRIMWOOD SOLD IN 7/11’S
A HUMBLE BEGINNING FOR A PLACE OF SUCH MEASURE
TIMBER CAREFULLY SELECTED, EACH TREE A TREASURE

TRAILS WERE BLAZED, A FEW ROADS WERE CARVED OUT
JOBS WERE CREATED TO ALLAY LOCAL DOUBT
HUNTING AND SHOOTING BECAME OUR FIRST SPORTS
THEN AS ONE THING LEADS TO ANOTHER, A RESORT

ROADS WERE BUILT AND TALENT WAS SOURCED
DONALD STEEL CAME ALONG, DESIGNING A COURSE
BECAUSE HUNTERS MIGHT LIKE TO PLAY A ROUND OR TWO
OF GOLF, DIFFICULT AND LONG WITH AN AMAZING VIEW

THE NAME PRIMLAND WAS INTRO’D IN LATE ‘86
THE FUTURE WAS BRIGHT WITH GOLF IN THE MIX
WE WOULD NEED WATER FOR FAIRWAYS AND GREENS
AND SEWERS AND TANKS AND IRRIGATION MACHINES

THEN THE GOLFERS AND HUNTERS NEEDED SOME PLACE TO STAY
AN IDEA FOR A LODGE SAW ITS FIRST LIGHT OF DAY
DIDIER PRIMAT DESIGNED IT TO FIT THESE SURROUNDINGS
A CATHEDRAL OF PRIMAT BUILT AMIDST NATURE ABOUNDING

ELEGANT STYLE AND A DESIGN TRULY RESPLENDENT
FOR TIME AWAY IN THE MOUNTAINS
A HEAVENLY SETTING TO SPEND IT
UP ON THE BLUE RIDGE IN STYLE EVEN TOURS OF THE SKY
FROM DIDIER’S TELESCOPE IN A DOME WAY UP HIGH

ON THE DAY OF MR. PRIMAT’S PREMATURE PASSING AWAY
BEGAN THUS A TIME OF MOURNING AND SADNESS
A CELEBRATION OF HIS GREATNESS, A NEW DAY
IN HIS CHILDRENS’ HANDS PRIMLAND REWORKED IN A NEW PRIMLAND WAY

A GIFT AND A CHALLENGE HIS BOLD LEGACY
REQUIRING THE SUDDEN ENGAGEMENT OF HIS PROGENY
THESE HILLS WILL REMEMBER WHAT HE BROUGHT TO THIS PLACE
TO THIS RIDGE ONCE JUST FARMLAND AND ACRES OF TREES

AND PEOPLE WILL COME IN SEARCH OF PEACEFULNESS HERE
INSPIRED BY NATURE, A LODGE RARE AND DEAR
HOSPITALITY WILL GROW, WE WILL WELCOME EACH GUEST
TO THIS REMARKABLE PLACE FOR RECREATION AND REST

© Copyright 2009 Brooks Bradbury, BrooksLooks

Brooks Bradbury bb

BrooksLooks@ Writing Poetry

20160928_205626

Writing Poetry with a Pencil
i once wrote a poem
with a pencil
right on a blank paper sheet
until a hand-me-down
Remington portable
made college life complete

clacking away on metal keys
that flew up square and neat
as a typed-out poem in parallel lines
appeared on my blank paper sheet

a spool of black and red ribbon
clicked along through a metal notch
it was as close as i had ever come
to the works of a fine Swiss watch

though clacking away faster and faster
‘til i over-clacked a little
it was at last too damned fast
and the keys got jammed in the middle

into the late pre-historic,
pre-techno age
things were still low-tech
and eclectic
when along came a thing
that became all the rage
high-tech and self-correctic
it was the best you could find
at last–the great one of a kind
IBM Selectric!

with its fancy silver alphabet ball
it turned every which way but loose
and my poem spilled out
on the blank paper sheet
my life, at last complete

alas now there was no excuse
i put the back-button into use
it would truly save the day
as mistakes were covered in little white tape
i kept on typing away

then at the dawn of our digital throes
beyond palm pilot stylus woes
behold the blackberry had finally come
soon we were addicted to typing
with each carpal sore thumb
and it now really truly grates
when my hip ‘ghost’ vibrates
still ‘crackberry’ numb

so i type out my poems
on the little white screen
and now i can email! my work
if you know what I mean
it’s quite a new perk
honestly i could just scream

it didn’t stop there
iPhones and tablets
have us all on the run
the digital arms race
had long since begun
sometimes i ponder
what progress has brung
a poet with an S4 Galaxy Samsung?

my monthly cell plan continues to rise
and my poetry production to taper
it’s time to go back
to writing each poem
with a pencil
right on a blank sheet of paper

© Copyright 2014 Brooks Bradbury, BrooksLooks

BrooksLooks@ Autumn

20171007_175232.jpgINTO THE AUTUMN

a wince too painful
not to notice
sudden stabs
of hidden hurt
presage one’s
reluctant arrival
in middle age
foretelling storms
an upside plus
bones pre-ache
reminding us
like an early warning
signal flare
to live it up
while you’re still there
a final fling
live earnestly and
honestly
forthrightly
we implore each other
and we allow
our time grows short
even now
hold onto me
the best is coming
yet to be
i hope
one day we will see
through autumn’s
arrival
auspiciously
we live forward
in a season new
life’s expectancy
comes into view
we’ll warm our hands
at life’s sweet fire
through autumn leaves
of red and gold
we’ll dance
and laugh
at getting old

© Copyright 2014 Brooks Bradbury, BROOKS LOOKS

BrooksLooks@ Linger Here

Linger Here

linger here
in this moment
in this place
meant for you
a sacred space

a micro gift
for you alone
for your soul
a sunlit ray
synchronized
for you in time
here only now
along your way

fleeting moment
gone forever
if you miss it
you’ll not know
the very instant
joy presented
love and life
here all aglow

be ever ready
for little moments
that come along
arise to be
for life is seeking
your full attention
and little moments
will set you free

© COPYRIGHT 2014 Brooks Bradbury, BROOKS LOOKS

BrooksLooks@ Home is Where You Are

HOME IS WHERE YOU ARE

home was where my parents were
not exactly a home on the range
the range was where dinner was made
when eating out was rather strange

home since then has moved about
from dorm to apartment to room
it didn’t seem to matter back then
until life began to bloom

apartment life was a passing phase
before jobs and moving and ‘homes’
after those pesky ‘overdraft’ days
before mortgages, bills, and loans

a career would bring us hither and yon
to one house after another–oh my!
we lived in places we’d never dream up
a place or two we should have passed by…

years went by and Mother moved
retiring south for the winter
her home is in Carolina now
we are sadly seldom together

home passed long ago from mom to spouse
you know how wild life is
houses sometimes resembled homes
but home is where ever my wife is

our latest house is not quite home
but to me it’s crystal clear
my home is with you–it will always be so
whatever the place, whatever the year

time’s gone by and things sure change
never my place with you
now that we’ve live on the open range
eating out’s a lot less strange

my home is you

© COPYRIGHT 2014 Brooks Bradbury ǀ BROOKS LOOKS

BrooksLooks@ Crumbling

20181118_114538

Crumbling
sermons unheard
the unspoken good word
a song unsung
lessons unlearned
in an inhospitable place
where manners don’t matter
to an inhuman race
cruelty seeps
onto the world’s bloody streets
gunfire and grief
beyond our belief
shots fired
our frayed nerves hot-wired
dignity’s bridges burned
simple kindness spurned
if civility is lost
was compassion the cost?
beneath uneasy skies
too many why’s
morality decried
a teacher defied
a pastor sighs
and the poet cries

© Copyright 2014 Brooks Bradbury | BROOKS LOOKS

BrooksLooks@ Vantage Point

20180810_200108

Vantage Point

we’ve come so far
beyond paradigm
to where the few
know a rare place
and time
complex new
dimensions
are misunderstood
yet seekers of truth
still seek the way
and the good
casting a glance
at the growing storm
faraway
fanatic rants
jeopardize
the safe and warm
will we make it
to the other side
will we rise above
the rising tide
can mankind cope
do we still hope
or is what we’ve achieved
threatened
on a slippery slope
it’s a race to the finish
to know how it ends
evil diminished
ill will portends
we build our walls higher
swarms of drones fire
evil’s armies on the run
a price will be paid
by daughter and son

  1. © Copyright 2014 Brooks Bradbury / BrooksLooks

BrooksLooks@ Going Away

20180810_195922

GOING AWAY

i’ve loved you and cared for you
every day of your life
i’ve paid a ransom price
to be your mother
a parent, a wife
in the roll of life’s dice
you’ll never know the depth
of my sacrifice
 
no time for small talk?
nor the details of my day?
so self-important now
you weren’t raised this way
and you tell me how you don’t care
it’s there in your eyes in that blank stare
 
good luck you’ve had your say
i won’t abide your disrespect
goodbye for now, i’m walking away
i don’t need you
i’m not some old door mat
my heart and i
can’t look back
 
i’m walkin’ away
my bags are packed
i loved you with all my heart
now i can’t look back
the fuse is burning in your life now
ticking like a time bomb
and you’ll never know how
i gave everything to be your Mom
 
i gave it all to be your Mom
a mother scorned by her own child
the most painful crime of all
you’ll realize sometime
when your heart’s in free-fall
when your friends are few
and she leaves you
and the bills come due
 
remember that i loved you
you’ll remember things i say
but i won’t abide your disrespect
goodbye for now
i’m walking away
 
i don’t need you
i’m not some old door mat
you broke my heart
and i can’t look back
i’m walkin’ away
my bags are packed
i loved you with all of my heart
and i can’t look back
let me know when you’re back on track

© Copyright 2014 Brooks Bradbury BROOKS LOOKS

BrooksLooks@ The Great Quinnipiack Club Soup Controversy of 2006

front_of_clubhouseAREA HEADLINES:

“SOUP CONTROVERSY BOILS OVER!”

“CLUB HULLABALOO OVER SOUP ON THE FRONT BURNER”

“STIRRING THE POT IN CLUB SOUP DEBACLE”

“SOUP BATTLE: A REAL BEEF!”              “STOCK POT TEMPERS FLARE”

“AD HOC SOUP COMMISSION APPPOINTED”

“Q CLUB ‘SOUP-GATE’ REVEALS CANNED PRODUCTS WERE USED EXTENSIVELY…AND PREFERRED BY ITS MEMBERS!”

NEW HAVEN, CT — In an act of desperation, eleven Quinnipiack Club members from the club’s self-described O.F.& H.B.’S (old farts and has beens) presented a strongly worded request to the Board of Governors today. It seems the long-simmering issue regarding recent changes in the club soup recipe has bubbled to the surface at the venerable private club.

As a result, an ad hoc ‘Soup, Broth & Consommé’ Committee is now being formed to address the rather dicey club issue. A Soup Task Force commissioner has yet to be named. It was unknown at press time whether the club’s new soup is actually being dumped into the New Haven Harbor (a la the Boston Tea Party) however Club Q Soup loyalists are really stirring the pot and ladling out cries of fowl.

The heat is also rising in the club’s ancient kitchen as the new chef was unaware there were any old “recipes” as the soup rebels claim. It seems that the club’s vital soup secrets (and a rusty can opener) disappeared about the same time as the former chef.

It is rumored that the new chef (with twenty-five years of cooking experience) actually arrived with some of his own soup recipes. Chef Jack Hodes when asked if he knew how to make soup, replied, “Yes.” And, “My soups have always been made from scratch. I know they are being well-received by the other club members because they actually have taste now.” The chef reports that the usage of salt, pepper and crackers has shown similar gains concurrent with the new homemade soups.

Compounding matters, one of the new chef’s first acts was to bring all of the old canned soup, soup base, stock and canned vegetables that were in the club’s kitchen when he arrived over to the nearby New Haven Soup Kitchen. While not homemade, management was certain that less fortunate members of our local community would really enjoy the soup, canned or otherwise.

Uncannily, we’ve all been shocked to discover that the Soup Traditionalists actually preferred the canned soup over the new made-from-scratch soup! Temperatures are boiling over as vehemence and vitriol pour out! Meanwhile, soup sales at New Haven’s Broadway Soup Kitchen have soared ever since the delivery of the Q Club canned food products. This however seems to be related to unfortunate economic reasons rather than dissenting Q Club members actually dining over there now.

The entire unsavory issue may be brought to a referendum in order that common ground is forged among the group’s steamed-up members. The emeritus leader of the “Soup Party” claims that “with the hiring of the new chef, our revered club soups have disappeared from the menu!” Reports from other members label this as simply “hogwash.”

It seems a majority of members actually prefers the bold, new direction of having some taste in their soup! “I find the club-made stocks to make all of the difference, bravo to the chef!,” exclaimed one gushing chowder-head. The general manager has been bowled over by the controversy and has vowed to address the concerns of all ‘soup loyalists’ with compassion and sensitivity. The situation remains fluid.

The Great Q Club Soup Controversy Simmers On!

© COPYRIGHT 2014 Brooks Bradbury ǀ BROOKS LOOKS

BrooksLooks@ Running a Remote Western Guest Ranch

cropped-chiricahuas-in-snow-2-21-13.jpgRunning a Remote Guest Ranch in Arizona

“There is a tarantula in my room!”

Thus began a three-year adventure and a unique hospitality repositioning assignment in the Chihuahuan Desert of the American southwest. More specifically, my wife Susan and I went to live in the remote southeast corner of Arizona an hour’s drive from the historic town of Tombstone. There in Cochise County, a single county the size of Connecticut and Rhode Island combined the west remains as wild as the cowboy TV images of our childhood.

The Arizona border with New Mexico was a just a few miles to the east beyond the 9,800-foot peak of the Chiricahua Mountains. The more active border with old Mexico was just 25 miles to the south. Sunglow Ranch lies at an elevation of 5,340 feet, well above the worst of Arizona’s summer’s heat and below the winter snows that come to the peaks above.

Adventurous American and European visitors still arrive here in search of the iconic Wild West. Germans in particular visit in large numbers to explore the land once made famous by beloved author Karl Friedrich May and the legendary characters of his novels such as Winnetou and Old Shatterhand.

This is a geographical location that rarely elicits a knowing response from worldly travelers. Old street signs there still reflect its remote location: signs like High Lonesome Road, Far Away Ranch and Double Buzzard Gulch. Cochise County is a corner of the United States few ever venture into except for avid birders and naturalists in search of the vast diversity of species there. Hikers, herpetologists and geologists also wander here for obvious reasons.

More recently, the area is emerging as an exceptional viticultural area. Perhaps one day you will recognize “Chiricahua Bench” as a new growing area on an Arizona wine label. It has been one of my life’s joys to get to know local winemaker friends there at the vineyards of Lawrence Dunham, Keeling-Schaefer, Pillsbury, Sand Reckoner, Aridus, Zarpara, Flying Leap, Kief Joshua and others. A remarkable development of Tasting Rooms is occurring today in Willcox, Arizona especially around Railroad Street. If you have yet to taste wine from southern Arizona, I am certain you will enjoy this distinct pleasure one day soon.

A dusty old airport that once welcomed Amelia Earhart to the area was just to our south toward the border towns of Douglas and Agua Prieta. We enjoyed visiting the old Hotel Gadsden in Douglas where Pancho Villa himself once charged in on his horse and rode right up the hotel’s main staircase. Bisbee to the west of Douglas is another fascinating Arizona border town in its own right with a rich copper mining history. We love exploring Bisbee’s picturesque streets and discovering its very special local shops.

As I arrived at the ranch a few months prior to Susan, there were moments when I felt exactly like Lieutenant Dunbar (Kevin Costner) must have felt in his assignment to that remote wilderness outpost in ‘Dances with Wolves’. In spite of feeling marooned, we both came to love the Chiricahua Mountains as a rough and untamed home for a while. (That’s “cheer-ih-cow’-a.”) We learned a whole lot about cowboy poetry and music, barbed wire fences and water rights, cattle brands and ourselves in the process.

We left our picture perfect Blue Ridge cabin atop the ridge itself in southern Virginia after opening the luxury Lodge and Spa at Primland in Meadows of Dan, Virginia for the late Didier Primat of Geneva, Switzerland. Mr. Primat sadly died before the project was completed and all too soon at the age of 64. After Primland opened and was well on its way to being named to Condé Nast Traveler’s “World’s Top 100 Hotels,” Susan exclaimed, “I’m ready for an adventure!” No sooner than the words been spoken than it seemed we were on a plane to Tucson.

From there we picked up our rental car and drove two hours into the high desert, deep into the Chiricahua Mountains. Turning off I-10 eastbound we took a few back roads that eventually turned onto long dirt roads as we ventured further into unknown territory. We continued for about 6 miles beyond the pavement on primitive dirt roads when Susan was famously quoted as saying, “There better be a miracle at the end of this road.”

It was the end of July in 2011 and in the next morning’s soft light we beheld the beautiful 500 acre ranch for the first time. We were pretty sure the ranch had never encountered the likes of us before. It wasn’t exactly a miracle. It was more of a very special new adventure.

The Horseshoe II forest fire that had raged for months in the mountains above the ranch was just about contained by then having burned over 200,000 acres of mountain ridge above us from the Chiricahua National Monument (a not-to-be-missed national park to our north) all the way south to Rucker Canyon. The fire destroyed houses on our nearby Turkey Creek Road as flames advanced to within one-half mile of the ranch. Thanks to amazing firefighters and Mother Nature the ranch narrowly averted a complete evacuation.

As is our nature, we set out to bring service excellence and quality to a place that had some pretty well-worn ruts of mediocrity. We also commenced an all out effort to polish the so called, “Jewel of the Chiricahuas.”

The oil in the old ranch truck had been unchanged for years and the landscape was thoroughly neglected. We faced failed septic fields overflowing with raw sewage, a grease trap long ago rusted through and a general malaise that had been oozing through the ranch for at least a decade. While still in business, the kitchen’s walk-in coolers were filled with more garbage than fresh produce.

Many changes were still ahead. In spite of plenty of issues, the property presented extremely well (and still does) as a peaceful destination nestled in the hollow of an ancient caldera, the ancestral home of the Chiricahua Apaches. It was the first time in our lives here that we experienced a place of truly profound silence. I mean there were nights when ALL we could hear was our own quiet breathing. The area’s dark skies provided a remarkable nighttime panorama of stars and constellations, most of which are completely invisible elsewhere. Meteor showers were uniquely spectacular, each like a scene from Star Wars.

An incredible diversity of wildlife exists in the mountains of southeast Arizona in what are known as ‘Sky Islands’—high mountain peaks separated by broad open ranges that contribute to isolated individual species. Even Jaguars still roam the ancient mountains of Cochise County, the northern extent of this large cat’s habitat. The Elegant Trogon and the Olive Warbler are two of the avian prizes to be glimpsed in the Chiricahuas especially if one is adventurous enough to drive over the mountain to the even more remote towns of Portal and Paradise, and the remote scenic beauty of Cave Creek along the New Mexico border.

The best we can really say about the ranch staff that we inherited was that they meant well. They hadn’t a clue about service levels or hospitality standards and we gathered there wasn’t much interest in learning. It was to their disadvantage that the new management team had previously learned from and trained some of the world’s finest hospitality employees. We had little tolerance for chronic whining and we insisted everyone move a whole lot faster and follow our lead on elements of precise guest service or prepare to get out of the way. Training commenced even though most of this original staff moved on within the first year when they realized we were still there and that we had no intention of running the ranch the old way.

There were plenty of perplexed looks as to why there were copies of “Who Moved My Cheese” in the kitchen and a new carved wooden sign placed over the employee entrance door that read, “Nils Satis Nisi Optimum.” We drove excellence and quality always insisting that every guest was properly welcomed, greeted and well served.

There in that lovely arid high desert we also encountered dangerous mojave and diamondback rattlesnakes, javelinas, mountain lions, scorpions and beautiful (yet huge and terrifying) cinnamon colored black bears. Free-range longhorn cattle from the open range grazed on into our guest areas making for some interesting moments. We faced drought conditions there and a few hungry and thirsty illegal aliens passing through occasionally from Mexico. Toward the end of our tenure, the drought grew worse, forcing the ranch to purchase truck loads of potable water—we hoped just a temporary condition until summer Monsoon Rains arrived.

Occasionally circling overhead were official helicopters, an indication of the intense battle between Border Patrol and syndicated Mexican “coyote” drug smugglers in the area. Southern Arizona’s omnipresent U.S. Border Patrol provided us with real comfort and peace of mind knowing they would be at the ranch in seconds if we needed help.

Taking over a ranch or even a country against its will has some parallels. Machiavelli (and Dr. Judith Best my college political theory professor) would agree that some of the tactics are by necessity similar. There were times we needed to be very heavy handed and times to be gentle and nurturing. We bit our tongues way more often than we were comfortable with and we chose to take on additional workload ourselves rather than put up with the indolent “I only do it my way” or “I quit so I can collect unemployment” type of employee. We strove to maintain a balance somewhere between these well-worn hospitality gems: “never cut off the branch when you’re sitting on it” and “never give in to terrorism.”

Running any kind of luxury business in a rural setting means that only a few people in the local community can or will afford your goods and services. In spite of this, it was always a pleasure to welcome our local guests especially those from Pearce and Sunsites and Willcox who came for dinner often and supported the ranch in so many ways. We will always be grateful for their friendship and encouragement. When the chips were down it was our regular guests who made us feel that our efforts were well appreciated.

To be honest, there were among our ranch team several diamond-in-the-rough heroes who stayed true to us and the ranch, working incredibly hard long days from beginning to end and making a real difference. Thank you to Mike, and Xiaoyan and Dan and others who helped Sunglow Ranch to achieve so much against all odds during our tenure. We will always be grateful to each of you.

There were long days and long nights to be sure in the running of the ranch and we were determined to prevent a lack of training and bad attitudes from undermining our guest service goals and our reputation. In the end we take a sense of accomplishment that we had actually led our team to reposition the ranch in anticipation of the real estate sale while achieving 6 TripAdvisor awards including two of the more coveted Traveler’s Choice awards in the process. We owe our thanks to amazingly loyal guests and the core of rock-solid employees who were as committed as we were.

We inherited a ranch that had undervalued itself for years—presenting itself in the marketplace as a deeply discounted venue to guests who really wanted to pay even less. For instance we heard a lot of, “What if we opt out of meals and housekeeping, can we get the room at half price?” Or, “We’d like to use the ranch for our wedding but we have our own catering.” Then there was the horde of discounted stays from the likes of misguided marketing initiatives like “Groupon.” There were those who tried to bring their own alcohol into the dining room in spite of the ranch’s liquor license. It felt good to move away from all of this.

We were as pleasant as we could be to this discount strata there when we arrived, and we worked to steadily increase the quality of our guest experience while pushing the average daily rate higher. Happily, the ranch came to provide needed sanctuary and real civility to discerning travelers who helped us to achieve new standards at the ranch. This in turn helped us to attract a new clientele better able and willing to support the emerging new Sunglow Ranch.

In spite of the forbearance required of us and some of the challenges outlined above, we were proud of the ranch we left behind. All along, we were well supported by the ranch’s owners and we enjoyed seeing a part of the country few others ever do. With grateful appreciation, we had the privilege of working for these two very special people who were always committed to making the ranch even better. Thank you Mitch and Chrissy for the opportunity to be a part of your team–for believing in us and for your patience and support. We will always be honored to know you and hope that our paths cross again one day. We wish you much success.

In the face of ownership’s renewed efforts to sell the ranch it was time at last for us to begin giving serious consideration to new opportunities. Early in 2014, an agreement was reached with a Chicago area real estate firm that was given the task of orchestrating the dispossession process. In the end, an auction was planned. This resulted in plenty of rumors by the uninformed who rumored that the ranch’s demise was caused by foreclosure and bankruptcy.

In fact, the time had been long overdue time for the owners to sell their ranch and a public auction was their last step in trying to move on. To their amazing credit, generous bonuses were paid to the loyal employees who stayed true to the end. No checks bounced, and no ranch debts were left unpaid.

After turning down other offers to run unique hotel properties around the country, I accepted a position at a very special luxury inn in western North Carolina. We packed up a rental truck and I left Sunglow Ranch behind for good at the end of February 2014. Susan decided the best thing for her was to manage the ranch a few more months on her own knowing my days would be immersed in a new post. She always knows better.

For me, it was disconcerting to imagine that Susan might have to face the wild west on her own. I took some measure of relief knowing she kept her .38 caliber, laser-sighted Ruger handy. She had already demonstrated that her aim was quite good. Out there, you quickly learn who is working for you and who is working against you and it’s always better to be prepared.

This time apart proved to be a great opportunity for Susan to shine on her own. On her first day as the ranch general manager she fired her first employee for performance reasons thereby setting the tone for the rest of her tenure. Thanks to Susan and the team’s continued efforts even more positive TripAdvisor reviews were posted.

Actually, there may have been no person better suited than Susan to help the ranch through this period. She presented the ranch in the most professional manner as she met with the real estate company agents, prospective buyers and eventually surveyors and appraisers. A new buyer had indeed come forward, and a contract was signed by the end of Susan’s term. We’ve kept our fingers crossed hoping the new buyer would come along and build on our efforts, keep a vital presence in the Sunglow community for our neighbors and help the ranch’s owners to move on.

Post Script

Special thanks to Baxter Black, famous cowboy poet and Western personality extraordinaire–and our wrangler the one and only Miles “Bucky” Buckley for teaching us the true ways of the west. Thank you too to our very own cowboy singer Joel Eliot for his great performances and for helping us to know what cowboy music really means. We have a great new appreciation for the lives and work of Ian Tyson, Dave Stamey, Rex Allen, Stan Jones and poet Charles Badger Clark among so many others. “Navajo Rug”, “Ghost Riders in The Sky” and “I Love You Arizona” will resonate in our hearts forever.

© Copyright 2014 Brooks Bradbury ׀ Brooks Looks

BrooksLooks@ City on a Hill

City on a Hill
HE’S GOT A THOUSAND DOLLAR SUIT
A MILLION DOLLAR SMILE
HE’S GOT HUNDRED DOLLAR SHOES
TIME TO SIT AND THINK A WHILE

AND HE THINKS ABOUT THE HAVES
AND THOSE WHO DO WITHOUT
AND HOW HE’D GOT SO LUCKY
AND WHAT IT’S ALL ABOUT

HE KNOWS SOME QUESTIONS
HAVE NO ANSWERS
HE KNOWS THEY NEVER WILL
LIKE HOW HE CAME TO LIVE
IN A SHINING CITY UP THERE ON THE HILL

EVERYTHING ONE NEEDS AND MORE
CITIES RICH BEYOND BELIEF
THERE’S MONEY TREES IN FORESTS
DOLLAR BILLS ON EVERY LEAF

THEY’VE GOT IT ALL AND NOT A CLUE
OF POVERTY’S TRUE COST
NOW THE BILL IS COMING DUE
RAVAGED SOULS ARE LOST

OUR SHINING CITY ON THE HILL
ITS DISTANT VIEWS OBSCURE
THE SQUALOR FAR BELOW THEM
DESPERATE LIVES THE POOR ENDURE

THE CLOCK IS TICKING FOR THE HUNGRY
AND THOSE WHO DO WITHOUT
A TIME BOMB TICKING, TICKING
TO A RECKONING NO DOUBT

POLITICS WITHOUT COMPASSION
FAILURE TO SHARE OUR LOT
LEAVING BUT A MEASLEY RATION
IN ANGUISH THE POOR CRY OUT

© Copyright 2014 Brooks Bradbury ǀ BROOKS LOOKS