“Nature includes too much and art can’t include enough.” The gold that shines off prairie grass as the sun comes to rest on the butte, the absolute black shadow in gullies scythed by flashing water, the expanse of blue, shading to red above the sun, sectioned by stray clouds, purple, out of place in the sweep of space unfurled over this champain ground, accosts us with silence. This place confronts what we have become, how we made it, what to make of it now. Quotation by A. R. Ammons, “An Improvisation for the Stately Dwelling” champain = level, flat
I’m not sure why but I’ve always loved that word “butte”… Outstanding description of the plains and I like your last two lines.
You painted the prairie with your words.