The TGP - Part IV - Legendary Prairie Skies

I’ve heard it said about writing…when fact confronts legend…print the legend.  The history of the tallgrass prairie is filled with legendary stories...stories such as; Origin of the Prairie Rose - a Lakota legend, The White Buffalo, How the Buffalo Hunt Began…all of which are now simply long lost legends whose basis of reality disappeared with the loss of the the Native American culture and the tallgrass prairie ecosystem.  But there is one legend that still remains as vibrant and real today as it has since men first set foot upon this landscape…The Legendary Prairie Sky. 

There are two things that are bigger than life on the prairie…the landscape and the big skies. One is not present without the other as they serve to complement each other.  Where the landscape provides that sense of place, the sky provides that sense bigness and where the two intersect there is a blending of ancient with the present. The skies are so varied here that each day becomes a new revelation and no two are ever exactly the same. Much of that uniqueness depends on your location whether watching the sun rise over a rocky arroyo or sitting on a grassy knoll watching the sun end the day behind a distant hill, a brand new encounter can be guaranteed each time.

I have tried to find the words to describe the legend of the prairie sky…for some reason I just cannot adequately do so. Sometimes it’s best to allow those moments to speak for themselves…so enjoy these few moments of legendary prairie skies and allow them to speak their own words to you…or even better…maybe they will inspire you to discover your own legendary prairie sky moments.

Tallgrass Prairie Part III - Listening to the Song

By mid-afternoon the day was beginning to heat up, but it still was not as oppressively hot as it can be in Oklahoma.  Those days were yet to arrive in another few weeks. On this late spring day, the temperature pushed toward the mid to upper 80’s but the sun was tempered somewhat by a layer of high thin clouds. Another two hundred yards in front of me advanced a rocky arroyo that swung in an arching loop that covered a half mile or more in length and maybe another two hundred yards wide at its widest. Across its flanks acres of prairie flowers bloomed adding splashes of red, blue, white, and yellow that blended with the prevailing greenness of the tall grasses.  It was not yet peak season for the grass and the fields and rolling hills were yet to achieve their maximum effort of growth. Underfoot, the rocky flint like chert  crunched with each step…at times catching the side of my boot twisting the foot to one side. At the base of the arroyo a small amount of water trickled and pooled in some of the slower and larger basins…mostly it was dry. I wiped some of the perspiration from my brow and walked another fifty yards to the southern edge of the draw where a set of cedar trees were growing. Their shade offered a fresh respite from the warmth of the afternoon and the constant Oklahoma prairie wind provided some cooling relief.

I had discovered this arroyo a year or two before and now it had become one of my must see hiking places when I am on site. For the most part, I simply sat in that small patch of cedar tree shade and simply listened to the sounds of the prairie. Keeping time with the wind prairie birds cast their chorus and insects added their fluttering drum. The grass swayed and the cedar trees hummed with each beat of the breeze. The spontaneous rhythm of the prairie song continued unabated with a new chorus…new rhythm…new words with each passing moment. With my camera pack propped behind me, I leaned back and closed my eyes...still weary from the early rise that morning…and the prairie song fill my soul.

Exploring the tallgrass prairie requires more than simply driving through and stopping at a scenic overlook. It requires a willingness to step into it…experience it up close…to feel it underfoot…to hear its song….to listen to its words. When allowed to speak to you such as this… you then begin to see what the prairie has to offer photographically.  For now it becomes less of a visual capture…and more of a spiritual understanding that leads to the capturing of its flavor, strength, serenity, and power. It’s less about what to look for and more about listening to what it says to you…for it will reveal itself to you and each revelation is different for each person.  The idea then becomes not to simply photograph a few visual reference points…but to capture your revelation in such a way that others who see your work understand why it was important for you. What’s important is not what you capture…but how you capture it.

I spent most of the afternoon exploring that arroyo until the sun began to lower toward the horizon. I stopped for a while and watched it settle before making the hike out before darkness settled in completely. In hiking the prairie this way, I’ve been able to discover intimate locations that only the wild bison and prairie birds know about. I think of parts of it as my person place…a place where I can release the stresses of life and discover a renewed mind…a place where what once was…still is.

The TGP - Part II - The Prairie's Song

A soft voice seemed to rise from the fragrant prairie carried across the sea of grass that pitched and danced on the Oklahoma wind...a voice that cast its song for all to hear, "Listen...as I speak of times past..." it whispered..."Come..and see...share my story..."

 I stood atop a grassy knoll a few hundred yards from the gravel road that undulates through the preserve. It was late May 1996, and the oppressive Oklahoma summer heat had not yet arrived.  Even so, it was warm enough. In all directions from that vantage point all I could see were fields of grass ranging across the southern edge of the Flint Hills Region...only a scattering of trees...not a man made object. A few hundred bison were meandering across the flanks of an adjacent hill a few hundred yards away...their guttural bellows keeping time with the prairie's song.

For a moment it was as though time had rolled in reverse and I had been transported to another place in another world...a time before even my ancestors first moved to Indian Territory..a time when bison roamed free and wild by the millions and the tallgrass prairie stretched unbroken from Canada to the Texas Gulf Coast.

Below me, acres of pale purple coneflowers sprouted out of the earth adding their color and fragrance to the warm earth-scented aroma that presented its greeting to travelers crossing its boundaries.  To the north a field of blackeyed susans exploded in a menagerie of yellow that contrasted with the prevalent green shades.  Powder like summer clouds drifted overhead in a cobalt blue sky casting shadows that created a broken atmosphere that helped cool the landscape. Prairie insects swarmed here and about...landing on long stems of tall grasses that swayed in the breeze...then off again to another. Birds...the dickcissel, a scissortail, meadow larks, a buzzard or two...added their movement and flight to the choreography of the prairie song.

For a stretched moment I rested on the edge time atop that grassy knoll and allowed the prairie song to fill my over-stressed senses with its soothing flavor. The stiff breeze seemed to gather around me and lift off my shoulders a heaviness that pressed against my life. I felt at home. I felt at peace.

My first encounter with the tallgrass prairie preserve was by far the one that carried the most impact. Growing up in Oklahoma, my appreciation of the prairie was tempered by an attitude that it was simply a big field full of weeds. No longer would that attitude prevail. Never again would my sight be blinded by inexcusable ignorance about the significance of what the prairie has to offer.

As I sat on that isolated knoll and watched as one of those legendary prairie sunsets developed, I knew that I surely must return again...someday...to capture photographically the emotions and feelings this single day of discovery afforded. Even though I did return several times after that, my first true photographic attempt was to wait the better part of a decade before it materialized, but since then, I've made numerous trips to and hiked deep across this landscape searching for those elusive moment that define what I discovered and experienced on that first day.

I have hiked across parts of the Rocky Mountains, a small portion of the Appalachian Trail, forded freezing trout streams, walked along ancient and rustic beaches, explored the rolling hills of the Ozarks, and canoed rivers still wild and free. I have photographed the amazing skies of Kentucky and fell witness to parts of creation only observed up close. To those endeavors, they all pale in comparison to the revelation discovered while sitting atop that grassy knoll in the heart of Oklahoma's tallgrass prairie. I suppose the reason why is because it was so unexpected. I was caught off guard by the power of the prairie song...a song that still calls to me each day.  It is a song that speaks of times past and the discouraging loss of a once magnificent landscape. It is a song that to all that hear it, not all...listen.

Keith