Walking off the plane at LAX, I immediately submerge into a dense and unforgiving mass of people going all directions at once. It’s a narrow hallway. Some people running, others trotting, a few strolling, still others standing in the middle of the hallway, oblivious of the people trying to get around them. I am thrown into mini shock, quickly needing to get out of the way. Finding an eddy in the stream of people, I proceed cautiously through the long hallways that lead outside, and eventually I am in my Uber in the press of cars and jumble of buildings, driving very fast. When we arrive at my hotel, I see the driver’s shoulders relax as he sits back and says, here you go my friend. For him, just another day in LA. Not so for me. My meeting tomorrow will take me deeper into the city to brainstorm with someone who may hold one of the keys for helping move forward with The Collective.

The endless string of cars and mass of people evokes the same feeling I have when standing by the Paintrock Creek outside my house watching, transfixed by the water go and go and go by me, moving, moving, moving, filling me with wonder about where it all comes from and where is it all going, and been going for millions upon millions of years.

Back home, most mornings I am up around 4 a.m. I make coffee and walk outside to sit in the love seat that Meredith and I made, just outside next to the front door under the little entry porch. There’s a smidge of light coming over the mountain at 4 a.m., and I subconsciously keep track of it as it grows. The creek on the yard’s edge is moving just like it was when I went to bed, making the same tireless, timeless sound I sleep to all night. It’s just like the surf on the beach. All of Meredith’s roosters that began crowing at 3 a.m. are going off over and over inside the coop. Wild turkey and deer usually graze just beyond in the yard.

I like how it feels early in the morning when there are no humans, just the sound of the earth—the noise of nature that everyone describes as silent. But to me it is not like that when you are sitting alone in it, listening. It’s loud. It has a free flowing sound that blends together seamlessly like all the instruments in an orchestra. And as I sit in my shorts and t-shirt, barefoot in that early chill that only summer mornings have, I love how it opens my mind.

The morning after arriving home from LA, my head is still filled with thoughts about the meeting I had, all the people I rubbed shoulders with, and the lives they all must live. We are all pulled by forces beyond our control, no matter what we do, and I think about how strong those forces must be for them, surrounded by each other.

My brain goes further: I wonder, what is the intersection of this world and that one? Granted, they are polar opposites as I describe them, yet even from a moderate standpoint, these two worlds that we humans live in are moving fast away from one another, leaving a chasm in between, that maybe, one day, if we are not careful, will be unbreachable.

Paintrock Canyon Ranch, Wyoming. Photo by Lauren O'Toole

Over the last 24 years, we’ve worked to offer opportunities to bridge this gap, to experience a place that drops people right into the midst of nature. Through this, we have developed close friendships with people from around the world who tell us how special the opportunity to explore and experience this place has become for them, and how much they have learned about living with it and taking care of it. This part of Ranchlands has grown organically to become not only an important part of our business, but it has grown into something much greater, transcending business into a vision of the future that inspires us to meet and find a way to work together to join our two worlds into one that is greater than either alone.

I wonder, just maybe…can Ranchlands be an intersection of these two worlds? Dare we think of what could be possible if we are able to forge a pathway together into the future?

We are having a small gathering at the Paint Rock in August, consisting of a handful of our friends who know us well, who have visited us and understand the vision that drives Ranchlands. Our primary purpose is to dive in and look into the future to answer this question.

But we need help from you as well. How does Ranchlands fit into your life? What do you need from us? What do you want more of? How can Ranchlands bridge the gap between the land and the city? What kind of access do you want into Ranchlands? What additional information do you need from us?

Your insights are super important to us, and we greatly appreciate you taking the valuable time to share your thoughts. Many thanks! Please send your feedback and ideas to: remuda@ranchlands.com.