It begins.
With just 68 days remaining, today marks a quiet but powerful turning point. Canyon Excavating is scheduled to begin its journey to the property, a symbolic first movement toward transformation. While no physical work may unfold this morning, the roadwork is slated for this week, laying the literal and metaphorical path forward.
Another milestone arrives in the form of the 20’ container, which reaches Bob’s this week. I’ve spent time reviewing its interior dimensions, mapping out what will be packed, how it will be arranged, and how much space remains. The verdict: I’m within the weight limit, but space has been claimed entirely. Every inch speaks of intention.
September brings the lumber delivery to Bob’s Orchard. With Bob, Mike, and myself working in rhythm, we expect to preassemble the walls and load them into the container by month’s end. It’s a dance of coordination and care, each board a promise of shelter and purpose.
Mike will travel north in October, eventually making his way southwest to the Arizona property. By November 1, the container, filled with everything I could possibly fit, will arrive, and the work will truly begin. If all goes well, delivery will be no later than 1pm, giving us time to reassemble the foundation and raise the walls.
By November 2, the roof and doors should be in place. It may not look complete, but it will be functional. And more than that, it will be a beginning. A structure born of vision, grit, and grace. A space ready to hold the next chapter.
The weather station may be small, but its purpose is huge. Until now, my only shelter upon arriving at the property has been the Jeep, reliable, but parked at the bottom of the canyon. There have been many moments I wished it were closer. With the weather station in place, I’ll finally have a safe and shaded spot to sit, rest, and observe without the long trek downhill. It’s a quiet comfort, and a meaningful step forward.
This trip brings a crew of six, including myself. With that kind of turnout, it feels like a good old-fashioned barn raising, many hands, shared purpose, and the possibility of swift progress. The energy is high, and the build may unfold faster than expected.
I’ve also reserved a sliver of space in the container for trees. Originally, I planned to test just two species on the land. But the vision has grown. I now hope to bring eight test trees, representing a total of 28 new species. It’s a bold experiment in adaptation, each tree a question, each planting a prayer. I don’t want to sacrifice them, but these plantings will reveal a lot; I hope they survive.
To protect these young trees, I’m constructing a kind of pergola, fenced to guard against rogue cows and deer, and shaded to shield them from next year’s intense sun. Two cisterns will be installed nearby, feeding 150 feet of soaker hose to ensure consistent hydration. I’m also introducing soil amendments and a new planting technique: drilling two feet deeper than usual beneath each tree. The hope is that this extra depth will encourage stronger, deeper root systems. The trees will be planted in a regular fashion, but deep below the pot will be the 2 feet of amendments that I really hope will give the trees an advantage.
After this trip, my next return to the land will be in April. By then, I hope to find the trees not just surviving, but thriving. If all goes well, their adaptation will be strong enough that the temporary fences can come down, and the grove can begin to stand on its own.
This week feels especially real. The pace is quickening, and the vision is stepping into form. I’ll admit, I’m a little nervous. But it’s the kind of nervousness that comes when something meaningful is finally happening.
I’ll be gathering video throughout the week, from dozer updates to the delivery and placement of the container. You can count on similar updates in September. These clips will eventually become Episode 4 on YouTube, but you’ll get to see it all first, and with deeper context.
Wishing you a beautiful week ahead, one rooted in purpose and possibility.