Grasslands are awarded the distinction as one of the 8 Natural Wonders of the Red Hills. As the fourth selection (the first three are St. Jacob's Well, Caves, and Wildflowers), this expanse of mixed-grass prairie is the second largest intact grassland in Kansas. Composed of short, mid and tall grasses, the primary species include Indiangrass, side-oats grama, little bluestem, sand and big bluestem, blue grama, rough dropseed , sandlove, buffalo and many, many more. This grassland is sprinkled with well over 500 different wildflower plants adding an amazing floral display throughout the growing season. I shall honor this category with poetry which hopefully expresses the feelings of all those who make a living in, travel through, or otherwise appreciate the Kansas grasslands.
***
Grassland Man
I've been on rocky mountains high,
with sculpted peaks that pierce the sky,
slivered with their crystal streams,
filled with anglers' shimmering dreams;
I've walked in desert solitude,
scorned by cactus wren or two,
and heard its sedent, silent wind,
whispering to large saguaro men;
I've spent some time in eastern woods,
watched busy squirrels stash their goods,
and sniffed the essence spring rains awakens,
of leafy perfume to a naturalist beckons;
And of these treasures I chance to hold,
these wonderful pleasures to the soul,
none quite satisfy my quest,
like the Kansas grasslands I like best;
To watch golden rays of slow sunset,
paint serenity on a prairie grouse lek,
hearing chuckled calls as night encroaches,
this scene no other delight approaches;
A thousand diamonds fill the nights,
sprinkling precious jewels of sapphire starlight,
to dance in eyes of nocturnal beasts,
who stalk for voles to fill their feasts;
Sunrise stirs an anxious breeze,
to caress the grass in endless tease,
bluestem applauds in rhythmic waves,
to greet each fresh spectral display;
And hidden midst these blades of green,
a pinkish face of an anemone,
specially picked in such quaint way,
set in its niche of this grand bouquet;
Now rustled by some scampering there,
known by whistle this bobwhite lair,
quickly silencing all quail talk,
the threatening form of red tail hawk;
Whose curious glance acknowledges me,
quite easily in this grassland sea,
its spirit sent on shrieking voice,
to meld with mine and give rejoice;
You may wish to play in mountain
halls,
or
sing to desert canyon walls,
you
may like the feel of ocean spray,
or
walk the forestland some day;
But plead ye not to this deaf ear,
those
sanctuaries you hold dear,
I'm
rooted to my prairie home,
the
land I love, the land I roam.
***