Friday, September 13, 2013


Out here in Nebraska prairie is an endangered species. In a little over a century it's been pushed back to bad soil, roadsides, and graveyards. Within it countless flora and fauna have broken. With no understanding we alter the landscape, we erase power before we understand, we undermine hope, we negate other cultures. We've done this for so long it doesn't seem wrong. I plant a bluestem and a milkweed where I can -- the act a shout against progress and manifest destiny, against hubris and ignorance. No one may hear me but one lone monarch filled with a deeper sense of this place than I'll ever have, the memory passed down over thousands of generations, unbroken like the prairie that not so long ago swept over the horizon.

Yes, it's on ironweed, but that's what's blooming now.

1 comment:

Diana Studer said...

your closing sentence ... the memory lives on in me, altho I see the Monarch only in your words (and Photos)