A Tribute to Branson Reynolds
Branson with “Magic Dogs”, Aazu & Kenda
Ever the wanderer, Branson Reynolds departed from this plane on January 14, 2021. He was a long-time friend of Annie’s Orphans, enthusiastically gifting his passion and skills toward securing caring homes for dogs for the last 11 years. Branson also “walked the rescue talk,” having adopted three dogs, fostered others and rescued several cats over his years in Durango, each of whom became a loved family member. His alliance with animals started from a boyhood filled with horse-buddies, a little dog named Tuggles and even a moody bull that he was able to charm, and it spanned through an adulthood where, as a desert-rambler, Branson would often awaken on the barren ground to find other desert-dwellers, some not so benign, sidling up for a bit of warmth.
Branson was a man who defied simple descriptors. He stitched complex dreams with threads spun from a yearning for simplicity, unperturbed by the inherent paradox. His desire to explore and embrace the serene richness of the natural world could find itself at odds with his search for profound connections within the often turbulent world of people. Like the father he adored, Branson bore the soul of a philosopher, yet was athletic by natural design, easily obtaining star basketball status while in college. He also acquired from his dad a love of the written word, a gentle strength of character and a shared longing for an ideal – a certain sine qua non – just beyond reach. As a modest yet gifted Renaissance man, many pursuits that later came to define Branson, he simply happened upon; such was the case with photography, which he took up as an assist to his work while on a biology assignment as a young man. Be clear, be confident and don’t overthink it. The beauty of your story is that it’s going to continue to evolve and your site can evolve with it. Your goal should be to make it feel right for right now. Later will take care of itself. It always does.
Branson was an artistic alchemist, able to photograph even a common image and magically produce a thing of beauty, sublimating collective sorrows into works of aesthetic depth. This ability attracted national recognition, with credits including publications of stories and photographs in Time/Life Books, the New York Times, LA Times, Backpacker, Wilderness, Outdoors, Sierra, Outdoor Life, Bugle, Outside, and Wildlife Conservation, plus airing on the Outdoor Channel. He led workshops and photo-tours for over two and a half decades and was highly respected for his knowledge of the natural and cultural history of the Southwest, as well as Western Americana/Historic Route 66. He authored “ONE DRIVE IN A MILLION”, with other book collaborations including “CEDAR MESA: A PLACE WHERE SPIRITS DWELL” and “AMONG THE ASPENS”.
Hemingway (A Farewell to Arms) wrote, “The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places.” We pray that this is so, because your loss, Branson, has left an indescribable broken place. Our sadness is softened only by the hope that your reunion with your cherished friends and family is more joyful than we can imagine.
Below is an excerpt taken from Branson’s favorite book chapter.
Like the cloud, I am transformed during every moment of my existence...The cloud’s fate is undeniably mine. What I was, I have become; and what I am, I will remain. I stand within the earth, within the island within me. All of us sharing one breath, all of us alive. And death seems the purest of all illusions.
I seek no paradise beyond the one I’ve known in life. My reprieve is here, to become a part of the island – to linger in the muskeg ponds, flow in the blood of deer, blossom in the salmonberry’s flower, soak down in the sphagnum moss, cry out in the gull’s voice, whisper in the wind’s breath, grow upward in the hemlock’s trunk, swim in the clear stream, shiver in the alder leaves. I have loved this island, willed my body and soul to become a part of it. In this way I would touch whatever is eternal and absolute. Watching a raven circle overhead, I know someday I’ll soar above these shadowed forests and stare down into the throat of Kluksa Mountain. I will see the image of earth fixed in the raven’s gaze.
I ask no heaven but this Raven’s world.
~~ Nelson, Richard. (1991). The Island Within. Vintage Books. (p. 256)
You can read Branson’s full obituary, here.
Article submitted by Jude L. Terry