For the second year in a row there has been a noticeable loss in the variety of our prairie plants. Our three native varieties of coneflowers disappeared entirely. Last year, only one bedraggled half-grown coneflower struggled for survival on ground where dozens had bloomed in past years. The Rattlesnake Masters are also gone, their blue-grey spiked globes hovering above waving grasses like minute alien aircraft. Perhaps it’s too early, but I can’t find my usual stand of Big Blue Stem prairie grass either. August may end up being the month we intentionally kill off half our prairie, necessary to replant and restore balance to our small re-creation of lost Wisconsin prairie. It’s been a very long time since I posted … I’d hit the blogger wall of indecision and over questioning; why was I doing this, what did I expect, and who am I? I’m back where I started, still haven’t answered any of those questions, but I have completed another set of photos to post. My site also looks different. I messed with my theme during my renewal and found I couldn’t upload my backup. Still working on THAT one! My apologies to those that I may have lost in the process … my links are also gone. Please contact me if you haven’t heard from me in a long time – I’m literally lost in WordPress land!
flowers
HIGHLIGHTS IN THE SHADOWS
If granted such a passion
I will dance in rain
Be happy with bad weather
And not cry for loss of schedule
The flowers on the prairie
Are doubled down with fear
That if standing straight in windstorm
Will tear them from the land
Even grass bends low
Shelters neighbors near
Keeps tender buds from breaking
Open petals safe from hail
Wisdom lives in prairie
Passed down from year to year
Inherits genetics ancient
Arranged gardens never know
There are lovely wet adventures
In a garden under rain
To those that dare to venture
With clothing soaked and dank
Nature often shows her best
When hiding light behind the clouds
Living things run for shelter
And leave land unguarded
End of stormy weather
Shows clouds of yellow hues
Like pies baked upside down
And thrown angrily aside
Bruised sky looking saddened
Lightning struck and thunder battered
Silently slipping over me
Turmoil waning and strength depleted
That all the glory of the storm
Will go to sunset in the west
That rain left untouched
And swiftly skirted past
The last hurrah of rainy day
Will come from setting sun
Reflected off of stormy boil
And bounded down to praise









