
As the Lochiel tree-sit enters its fourth week, what began as a sparse, symbolic protest to save historic cottonwood trees from the destructive machinery of border-wall construction has blossomed into something much grander. A growing camp of activists have transformed the movement from symbolic to tangible – with a demarcated stopping point protecting the last remaining “grandmother” cottonwood in the path of machinery, and a show of binational solidarity with a corresponding tree-sit south of the border. PRT reporters have made several visits to what can now be described as a “camp,” most recently on Saturday, and came away with these observations.
The westward movement of grading and border-wall construction has brought big machinery and flow of trucks to Lochiel. Fisher Sand and Gravel’s machinery and trucks leapfrog past the “grandmother tree.” On Aug. 15, a view east from the De La Ossa family cemetery showed a second wall has been built from ground above the Santa Cruz River, westward to and through an unacknowledged and unnprotected archaeological site on a ridge. The first wall, by Monday Aug. 17, was almost to the protest tree before the contractor stopped the trenching.

West from the historic Lochiel cemetery, there is about a mile of the Roosevelt Reservation’s 60-foot band of deeded Federal land that is newly cleared of small trees, brush and vehicle barriers. There is roughly one more increasingly rugged mile to go before the steep granite ledges of the Patagonia Mountains take over and the border road ends at a sloping cul-de-sac.

The tree-sit, which has now passed the three-week mark, has a substantial platform roughly 50 feet up in a 70-foot cottonwood and is protected from the elements by a conical tarp rigged above the platform. The sitter can look down directly on a supportive encampment of tents, with a scattering of eight smaller camping tents spread out in a mixed-plant meadow. Across the meadow is a screened waste trench that serves as an outhouse without walls.

Below the tree is a marked-off “drop zone” where up-and-down rope-and-bucket exchanges happen between platform and ground. Because of the exchanges and cottonwoods’ tendency to shed branches, hard hats are encouraged (and available). The encampment is called “Camp O:Shad,” a name that was given to a recently sighted jaguar by some Tohono O’odham kids on the American side of the mountains. A recent New York Times article goes deeply into jaguar recovery in North America and the border wall as an obstacle to their movements.
Using organized private communication channels, Camp O:Shad’s supply chain of food and other camp necessities is providing whatever is needed to sustain the operation, with a focus on ice and water. The camp is both primitive and luxurious: In the near future acupuncture and therapeutic massage will be available! A battery-backed solar panel provides charging for digital devices and a little night light.
Aside from construction machinery, the camp has no vehicle presence — not even bicycles — as it’s about a quarter-mile walk on private property from the protesters’ rented casita that was the original customs house for the Lochiel Port of Entry. Now it’s called “the Port of Hope” and is the primary kitchen, indoor bathroom and supply storage spot for the growing encampment. An angled fence in the back yard has been restrung a bit to the north to avoid the full 60-foot use of the Federal land. Nearby, Unisource’s overhead power line serving the La Noria rancherias on the Mexico side is still in place, with caution signs. The Mexican cattle and horses that used to be in and around the ranch houses of La Noria haven’t been seen at the border recently, perhaps due to the dismantling of the existing fencing by construction crews, which would enable the livestock to cross over.
On the Mexico side, the biggest grandmother tree is close to the border and has become the repository for four banners from previous events, as well as two smaller protest signs. Branches and roots of this very large tree spread through air and under the ground into the U.S. side. If the first wall is built exactly along the border with no accommodation, this huge cottonwood may suffer damage to roots and canopy. The same position is held by a second tall cottonwood a little further west on the Mexico side, a good choice for the Mexican tree-sit that began on Tuesday, Aug. 16.

For the long line of cottonwoods that follow a north-south watercourse started long before the border existed, the binational handshake of the trees across the line has already been broken by the removal of three of the large trees just before the tree-sit began on July 28.
The tree-sit tree grows close to the north fence of the 60-foot strip and has witnessed many forms of ceremonial energy and performance events around it, including two large binational “happenings” over the last year. Currently, the main prayer cord wrapping the tree makes space for individual hand-drawn cloth prayers to be tied on, along with a couple of locally crafted flat-box shrines and some fresh roses drying over time. Other ceremonial objects at the tree include a life-sized silver hummingbird sculpture, a small Christian cross, and an abalone shell, all gathered at a small wooden stool near the tree.
A week earlier, Lady Liberty made a performative appearance at the tree. The 15-foot tall, three-person puppet covered her eyes as a big gravel truck drove by. At dawn last Sunday morning, in the same spot, protesters briefly occupied the off-limits road and ceremonially greeted the rising sun, slowing the workers who drove by aggressively — a curious moment mixing prayer and protest. The sunrise ceremonies have continued throughout the week.


The fast-changing Lochiel story has been picked up by a growing number of journalism outlets, now including the Nogales International, Tucson Sentinel, Luminaria, AZPM, KOLD-13, KVOA, NPR, Amy Goodman’s Democracy Now, Lookout, New York Times, The Guardian, and USA Today, despite the remote site’s accessibility challenges, and a swelling stream of information flows on social media channels such as Facebook, Youtube, X, Instagram, and WhatsApp. Tech-savvy campers at the tree-sit make extensive use of private Signal chat groups for logistics, with some side notes of poetry, art and lots of approval and commentary on each others’ posts. Collectively, these posts have included enough videos for a sizable film festival. Veteran cinematographer John Kurc is gathering extensive footage for another film similar to 2021’s American Scar, sharing some of it as the days unfold.
During Saturday’s visit by the PRT, at the edge of the “drop zone” under the tree’s canopy, a woman sat alone in a low chair that directly faced the tree from about 20 feet across the barbed wire fence. Quietly she sang to the tree: ”We are stronger, stronger than we think.”

