Prairie Visions I

Gazing out across the prairie, the undulating grass waves farewell to the day as the pink sun splashes out against the dark blue clouds that have gathered, teasing of rain. The buzzing grasshoppers and chirping crickets fill the air as the rustling grass softens the sounds of evening. In the distance an old white homestead stands against the years of weather…deserted. Immediately, the house comes to life in a fresh whitewash with a majestic woman of the prairie collecting the day’s laundry, pausing to enjoy a glimpse of the sunset, signifying the end of another hard day. A small frog startles me as he jumps into the road ditch water.

As my imagination pauses, I find my thoughts drifting to a woman I never met except in a grainy black and white photograph. I cannot recall the details of her face, just her willowy figure silhouetted against the prairie and small homestead shack. Despite the foggy details, I can create her image in my mind. Her spirit was spunky. She left her family home in Wisconsin shortly after the turn of the century as a young woman filled with determination. As she headed West across the prairie, I like to think she gazed out of the train window and watched the changing landscape knowing she was changing the landscape of her future from the wooded hills of Wisconsin to the rolling prairies of the Western Dakota country. Her heart had to be racing as she stepped out onto the platform of the desolate train station before finding a place to rest for the night. Early the next morning she arose to enjoy the sunrise of hope before claiming her homestead.

My heart swells with pride here, as I picture a spunky young lady setting claim to property before women were even allowed to vote. A woman who had courage to independently establish her dreams. I can feel her blood pumping through my veins as I admire her spirit. I can feel her tenacity. I can feel her dreams.