From Wildflowers to WiFi

A Love Letter to Our First Year

A celebration of where we've been, what we've built, and who we've become.

This isn’t just a love letter to The Essex Ranch. It’s a love letter to the unexpected, to the man who builds beside me, to the land that keeps teaching us, and to everyone who’s been part of our first year. A single story, written in many voices.

Before the blog, before the house, before we knew what this would become... he paused. The land already knew.

Dear Year One,

You were never on my vision board.
I didn’t dream you up in a five-year plan or map you out with bullet points and goals.
You showed up unannounced… one spontaneous morning, with a whisper: “Share this.”

I thought I was just creating an Instagram page for the ranch.
But then you nudged me toward an email address.
Then a blog.
Then a full-blown website.
And suddenly, The Essex Ranch had a voice, and it started speaking through me.

I had never written publicly before. Never built a site. Never planned to.
But something divine was at work, and I followed it.
And just like that, we began.

In the last twelve months, we’ve poured foundations, both literal and emotional.
We’ve gotten muddy, dusty, frustrated, and giddy.
We’ve watched deer at the feeders and stood in silence under the sky.
We’ve met wild hogs, battled mice, and learned what real stillness feels like.

There have been days of awe. And days I questioned everything.

And yet… here you are.
Still unfolding.
Still surprising me.
Still reminding me that the things we never planned are sometimes the most sacred of all.

I wanted to take a moment to look back, not just on what we’ve built, but what we’ve become.
To celebrate not the perfection of it all, but the beauty of the process.
And to share a little of what this year has taught me… and what it's asked of us.

So here’s to you, Year One.
Thank you for your grit.
Your grace.
Your Wi-Fi that only works in the RVs.
And all the wild, messy magic that’s brought us here.

With a grateful heart,
Nina

Dear Year One,

You didn’t just shape me.
You shaped us.

You’ve pulled us out of old rhythms and dropped us into something quieter, harder, and more alive. You’ve tested our patience with each other, with timelines, with the wind. But you’ve also given us long drives under open sky, bonfires lit by starlight, and mornings where the stillness settles between two coffee mugs.

To honor you, I sat down with the man who’s made so much of this possible: my husband, Shon. We recorded the conversation on the patio of our casita in Santa Fe, just the two of us and the hum of something unspoken… progress, partnership, and maybe a little disbelief that it’s already been a year.

The simplest setup. Two chairs, one conversation, and everything we’ve built so far.

He said he wasn’t nervous and he wasn’t….
But he was honest.
And that’s what made it so good.

“Where did the idea for the ranch come from?”
“I think it was December 2023. I was getting kind of bored… I started looking at real estate.”

I never knew boredom could spark something so beautiful.

“Did you picture it like this?”
“I didn’t picture the house we’re building now… I thought it’d be smaller, simpler. But I don’t like to settle.”

I’m grateful every day that you didn’t want to settle. You’ve taught me to dream bigger and build harder.

“What surprised you the most about building a ranch?”
“How expensive it is. How much work it takes. Getting contractors to do what you want them to do.”

No lies detected. But also, no regrets.

“What’s been the most rewarding part?”
“Just looking at the work after you do it. The results.”

This right here. The quiet satisfaction. The peace that comes after the push. That’s what you’ve given us.

“What’s your favorite project so far?”
“Clearing the front area with the skid steer… mulching all the trees, getting the tree line looking good.”

That tree line is more than tidy landscaping. It’s a love letter in its own right… written with horsepower and sweat.

“What’s one word to describe ranch life so far?”
“Rewarding.”

And in three syllables, he sums up the entire year.

This journey wouldn’t exist without him. He keeps things simple... steady... grounded..

Dear Year One,

You’ve taught me more than I expected. And far more than I was prepared for.

You taught me that patience doesn’t mean passive. That mud tracks and mouse traps come with the territory. That building something real, something lasting, means surrendering the illusion of control.

You taught me to look up more. To sit still longer. To listen to the land, the wind, and the rhythm of something older than both.

And you gave me these truths:

• Beauty doesn’t cancel out hardship. It lives beside it. Sometimes in it.

• Progress is often invisible, until one day it’s not.

• Peace can exist in the unfinished.

• Family is everything. Especially when they’re driving ATVs and tracking in dirt.

This year has been a becoming. Not just of The Essex Ranch, but of the people we are within it.

Still moving forward... one step, one sunset, one season at a time.

Dear Year One,

Thank you for being unplanned.
Thank you for the deer in the mornings, the pink skies at dusk, the equipment breakdowns, the corridor mishaps, and the laughter that showed up anyway.

Thank you for giving us the freedom to grow slow.
To build messy.
To dream real.

And thank you for reminding me…
We may not be fully moved in yet.
We may still sleep in the RVs.
But we are already home.

Here’s to Year Two.
Here’s to the work ahead.
And here’s to sharing the journey with all of you… dust, dreams, and all.

With muddy boots and an open heart…
The Essex Ranch

If you have been part of this first year… thank you. It means more than you know.