"The essential feature of the prairie is its horizon, which you can neither walk to nor touch."
When there is no summit to reach nor farther shore to attain--only a constantly receding point between earth and sky to follow--a journey proceeds as much into one's own mind as it does into the natural world. Sauntering through the tall grasses of the prairie, Paul Gruchow engages in just such a boundless journey, exploring simultaneously the subtle beauty of the Great Plains and the mind's astonishment as such grandeur.
Charting one cycle of seasons, Journal of a Prairie Year reveals countless cycles of thought: the innumerable sounds of winter snow beg us to understand its song; the fecundity of spring questions the accuracy of naming its abundance; the tenacity of prairie roots in a summer drought contrast with the shallow roots of our culture; and the mortality of fall mirrors our steady destruction of a once seemingly infinite expanse.
The result is equal parts phenology and philosophy, a blend of natural and human history from a writer who "makes empty places full and a reader's imagination soar" (Washington Post): calling us to remember a threatened world, and urging us to reach for its unmarred horizon.