Prairie Blog
My Heaven.
Daily, I step onto the land with an expansive view beneath an endless sky limited only by the changing light, weather, and seasons. I share slices of life unfolding on the prairie—reflections about its people, the wildlife, and untamed nature.
April Fools?
First day of April, snow on the ground and turkey in the yard, strutting for hens showing off their colors in the morning sunlight.
Great Blue Heron
Great Blue Herons have begun arriving in the panhandle. They gather in the lush wetlands of the larger creeks and marshy areas of Whitney Lake, where bluegills are plentiful. The male herons arrive first to rebuild or reclaim their nest.
Shed Season has begun!
February is one of my favorite months. Shed season has begun. Several deer have been in the pasture with only one side of antlers attached. They fell off somewhere- in the pasture, the ravine, the forest? This is the month my hounds and I like
Morning Visitors
Late for breakfast. It is almost 9 AM; the turkeys are late this morning. There are only two on the snow-covered hay stacks. The others are still roosting in the nearby cottonwoods. With dormant branches reaching high above the stacks, the birds watch the eastern
On the Cusp
Between the Seasons We are on the cusp between seasons, from Autumn to Winter. In Nebraska, we have entered the snow and cold, with an occasional rain season. Here, the wind blows constantly, sometimes gently and other times with gusts from the sudden heaves of
The Sandhill Cranes know it’s coming.
Last night, as the sun set, I heard the familiar songs and trills of migrating sandhill cranes in the distance. Their overhead passing is a week early, as they are usually spotted in droves passing through in mid-October. Though their familiar calls as they sweep
We’re innocent!
It wasn’t me! It was his fault! All three of them just sitting there looking the other way. None of them copping on the truth. Thirty minutes earlier, we were out hiking when I stopped to snap a photo. That’s when I heard Bandit barking
The Reluctant Medium
I’m always amazed at what shows up when least expected. This photo for one. It was taken back in 1996 or so. I came back to Nebraska to visit Mom and this space. I had been returning since my folks had purchased their land in
Dad’s Anniversary.
W. Reynold Brown On August 24, 1991, my father, W. Reynold Brown, died in West Nebraska. His remains are buried in the prairie cemetery near his home. I dislike using the word “died” because the accepted euphemisms conjure the same limited thoughts. Passed. Expired. Perished. End.