When my blogmate, Neville, last visited Arizona, we spent an afternoon at the State Capitol in Phoenix. It was there, caught in an engaging conversation with a local guide, that Neville first learned about the “Five C’s” that define the state: Copper, Cattle, Climate, Citrus, and Cotton.
It’s fascinating to reflect on how these five pillars define Arizona’s heritage. However, standing in the present, I can’t help but wonder if these pillars carry the same importance they once did. The Arizona economy feels worlds away from the one I grew up in.
A Walk Through Copper Country
My most recent morning hike took me further west into the Tonto National Forest than the walk in my previous “Sonoran Desert Allure” post. In that post I expressed my love affair with the Sonaran Desert. On this day I found myself exploring the rugged terrain of the Miami/Globe/Superior area—true copper mining country.
During his American travels, Neville had met with members of the Apache tribe who shared their perspective on current Federal plans to convert their sacred Oak Flat lands into a massive new mining operation. My newest exploration explored areas where copper mining had altered the landscape in significant ways.
While Neville and I make a conscious effort to keep this blog a sanctuary from heavy politics, the cultural and environmental significance of this land exchange is profound. For those curious to learn more about the history and the heartbeat of the Oak Flat debate, I’ve included a video below to let the story speak for itself.
Reflections in the Dust
As I walked, I found myself observing the visible marks sixty years of copper mining have left upon my beloved Tonto National Forest. It is a complicated landscape—one of both utility and visible scars.
These observations inspired me to draft a “companion” poem to the “Sonoran Mistress” piece from my previous post. It is interesting to compare and contrast the changes inflicted upon the landscape. I feel this new poem reveals the aftermath of the scars of passion mining has wrought.

Sonoran Requiem
Wake, sleeping desert, awake,
From a hush I can’t outrun.
Upon your grace I trespass, claim undone;
I wander where Picketpost looms in sight,
Boots heavy now, with no dream to fight.
Your wildflower sash lies torn in the dust,
The moon dulled green by malachite trust.
Purple sage bruised, its petals spent,
Where scorpions crawl with ill intent.
The Teddy Bear Cholla stands barbed and still—
A silent witness on the flanks of a gutted hill.

Your manta slipped beneath rusted scars,
Where Saguaros once reached for the stars.
Golden dusk on the azurite split,
Tailings spill where the thirst was once knit.
Your needle-crown lies crushed below;
The wind no longer guards what the miners know.

Your ocotillo shawl is pried apart
For drills that pound like a mechanical heart.
The cicada is drowned by a diesel groan,
As night falls hard—unasked, and alone.
Agave withers among fractured seams,
Where verdigris veins reveal copper dreams.

Meandering roots are stripped from the stone,
Leaving the bare earth cold and overthrown.
The arroyo runs thick with a rusted hue,
The desert’s warmth choked by something new.
In shattered starlight, the javelina root,
blue minerals bleed beneath their foot.

Though spirits drift, cloaked in slag and stain,
Their whispers are drenched in a sulfide rain.
Your gnarled limbs claw at the empty air,
Asking why the rock-hounds dared hunt there.
Precious Sonora—violated varnish,
A sun-burned kingdom turned to tarnish.

Precious Tonto treasure, with skies now pale,
Pastels scrubbed raw by a copper tale.
We never asked; we took. We delved,
Taking your arid silence for consent itself.
To trespass once felt like being free,
Now pleading eyes won’t meet what the miners sieve.
Stripped to the bore, your mysteries flee,
Like a dry wash coerced to rise and be.
Truth drips slow from the canyon seams,
Acid-stung and robbed of dreams.
Apache Tears still bend the light,
Distracting fools with a polished sight.

But deeper still, the ledger keeps
The count of why the desert weeps.
The wind-tossed sands expose withered bones,
Amidst rusted rails and blasted stones.
Turquoise ghosts in the tailings sleep,
Under silvered nights that no longer keep.
Ancient etchings, now prohibited, read
As illegible tales of a miner’s greed.
Wise were they who left the ore cloistered;
We learned too late, our own souls fostered
In the coyote’s call to a hollow stake,
Where wild echoes measure the toxic pit lake.

I wander exposed, no starlight quenched,
Nestled in the heart of what was wrenched.
Let no false peace steady my breath—
This guilt of mine is extraction’s debt.
The parched breeze barely whispers near,
lamenting the virgin ore stolen there.

A Note of Harmony
To wrap up this post, I wanted to share a piece of music that resonated with my mood during this trek. I’ve chosen “Mercy Mercy Me (The Ecology)” by Marvin Gaye. Though the song predates Neville’s and my earliest USA travels, its soul and message were a constant backdrop during our teenage years. It feels just as relevant today as it did then.
I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments. Does the “Copper” side of the desert speak to you as much as its “Allure”?
Cheers, nca
I have also included the following links to encourage you to explore some of the creative works of some of our other ‘The American Beagle’ contributors. If you are interested in any of these creative endeavors, be sure to tell them “The Chuckster” sent you. The American Beagle loves to encourage ‘arts’ efforts. I have included Amazon links for each of these if you have interest.
*”High Times and Crimes in Throbbing Morton: 5 Tales of Cheer” Neville Jacob, author. Available at Amazon in book or audible format.
*”Deep Water: All My Seas, Book 1″ L Rambit. Available at Amazon. L Rambit is one of ‘The American Beagles’ millennial consultants.
*”The Children of Horseshoe Hideout” Rebecca Mathews Vorkapich. “Becky’ is an artist and writer who we hope to publish in an upcoming post on this site.

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