Return to PrairyErth

"The American disease—and I'm quoting someone I can't remember—is forgetfulness. A person or people who cannot recollect their past have little point beyond mere animal existence; it is memory that makes things matter."

—William Least-Heat Moon in PrairyErth a deep map

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=PrairyErth&x=0&y=0 

Book published in 1991

Saturday I attended an event in my county celebrating memory and "things that matter." Heat-Moon was here. And he was paying tribute to his memories of Chase County, Kansas, with the premier showing of a PBS documentary "Return to PrairyErth."

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Return-to-PrairyErth/118612793242#!/pages/Return-to-PrairyErth/118612793242?v=wall

William Least-Heat Moon signing PrairyErth for me

When  PrairyErth first hit the bookstands (it was a best-seller) in 1991, I was already a fan of the author, having read Blue Highways. I still lived in Illinois, and Kansas was not even on my radar. Little did I know that only a short while later circumstances would bring me to the very heart of the country featured. I began to read the book again, and in those very passages that had fascinated me upon my first reading, I recognized my now-neighbors, people and places I now knew and had come to love. 

I had come home, somehow recognizing my own roots in the prairie put down by my ancestors who drove covered wagons across the country to settle on what was then named Prairie's Edge in Illinois. 

Ironically, it was Heat-Moon's book with its chapter-opening grids of Chase County that guided me here in the first place, though. I was working in Topeka and was beginning to hear about the Flint Hills, a reportedly magical area. I didn't yet equate it with the portion of my occasional drive from Topeka to Wichita on the Kansas Turnpike that cast a spell over me, an area of open space and rolling green hills.

Chapter opening for Matfield Green

I thought to myself, "I wish I knew someone who lived around here so I would have an excuse to exit the highway." I can remember the exact spot this thought occurred: the Bazaar cattle pens, about midway between the Emporia and Cassoday exits. It reminded me of a similar area I had driven through once in Wyoming. I got the same feeling of attraction, something drawing me there, a longing.

Those grass-covered rolling hills represent the largest expanse of what's left of the native tallgrass prairie. With only three percent of this endangered ecosystem left in the world, two percent is right here. Big bluestem, little bluestem, switch grass and Indian grass.

My drive to town

The town name Matfield Green also kept cropping up, though I couldn't tell you how. I was intrigued. One day I attended a meeting about 100 miles southwest of Topeka and decided to try to find Matfield and Chase County. I did not want to follow the paved road. I did have my book along (I grabbed every opportunity of down-time in my then-busy work life to read). 

Chase County town names are written in rocks on the hill above. This view is from the old cattle loading stockyards on the railroad siding. These may have been the last in the state to survive, but have since been burned.

I followed the map and grid in the chapter about Matfield Green and I found myself on a stretch of "open range," where cattle moseyed across the road. The hills were now tawny with fall's influence, the waving grass reminiscent of the sea which once covered the area. Meadowlarks sang, killdeer flitted about, trying to draw me away from their nests. The sky was endless October blue with only an occasional patch of fluffy white. I did not see another vehicle the whole time. Finally, I stopped on a rise of the hills that overlooked what appeared to be a tiny village and guessed it might be Matfield Green. It was. 

The story gets complicated from there, but two weeks later I was back in Chase County, and after a long weekend, I knew I was "home." I had to return. No matter what. It was seven more months before I finally relocated on the ranch of Jane Koger, to whom Heat-Moon had devoted a chapter. A lifetime resident and ranch owner, Jane founded Prairie Women Adventures and Retreat. I was becoming a Prairie Woman and on my very own Adventure as I became director.

"Return to PrairyErth" resonates for me on so many levels. 

"You must not be in the prairie; but the prairie must be in you. That alone will do as qualification for biographer of the prairie…He who tells the prairie mystery must wear the prairie in his heart."

—William A. Quayle, The Prairie and the Sea (1905)

It is a mystery, and I know I have the prairie in my heart. It has called me, soothed me, excited me, taught me. Yet, I can never really explain or describe it. I have taken thousands of photographs and written even more words about it. Its "mystery" and magic are elusive. I once wrote that it seeped into my soul. Upon much reflection, I believe that my soul was always here, the prairie was always within it. I just had to "return" to it. 

Others have recognized this lure. One couple—from Chicago—also relocated here not long after I did. They are realizing their dream of establishing an education center on the site of a ranch and farm settled by one of Chase County's pioneers. The Rogler Ranch—now referred to as Pioneer Bluffs—is just north of Matfield Green. Pioneer Bluffs  http://www.pioneerbluffs.org/  hosted Saturday's event. 

Wichita, KS Eagle coverage:   http://www.kansas.com/2010/07/24/1417753/pioneer-bluffs-celebration-draws.html

People often say that Heat-Moon "put Chase County on the map." If that was the case, then Bill and Julia McBride along with a host of others are doing their best to uncover and tell the (hi)story of the county, the land, the culture, its pioneers, and those who have lived here most or all of their lives. 

They pay tribute to them through a photographic exhibit in the restored Rogler Homestead. They farm a cooperative garden in much the same way it was done over a hundred years ago. School children are charmed by the log cabin, the barn, the animals. Pioneer Bluffs hosts monthly seminars and workshops about the land and community. Neighbors and even those who don't live close volunteer their time and hands to help tell the story. 

Saturday was a big day, for Pioneer Bluffs, for William Least-Heat Moon, for Chase County, and for me. 

Spring-spiration

I'm back. Spring seems to inspire me to get off the stick and really do things. Actually, I've written several blog entries, but never got around to posting. I am, however, going to add (at the bottom of this) something that I wrote New Year's Day, just because it had a message I want to make note of, for myself anyway.

Excitement.
Findings.
Treasures.
Inspiration.
Bargains.
New growth.
Spring.

Yesterday I had a creativity escape afternoon. I headed to the nursery, armed with coupons for half off on some plants and more on others. Succulents and African daisies topped the list. Since it's a bit of a drive there, I spent part of the time dreaming about my back flower garden, which is being revamped this year.

To start with, Charlie's helping me dig out some pesky plants to replant on the hillsides of the ditches. Old fashioned Bouncing Bett and Tiger Lilies spread and overpower everything else and I fight them all year. So, they're getting new homes to make way for new plants.


Still a mess

The daisies are light purple and deep purple. The succulents will go in one corner with my existing hen-and-chicks. The dill and cilantro will join the other herbs.

The gardens are off-limits to our two real black labs, but my new lab puppy sculpture will be look cute sitting guard someplace. We also bought a fountain the other day, which Charlie just set up last night.



My dreaming included plans to paint a couple of my trashy treasures cobalt blue—like the tiny child's or doll's chair and a pot or two.

Ater the nursery I went to my favorite used book store, The Book Grinder. My most exciting find is a beautiful 8 1/2 x 11-inch book entitled Alphabets and Ornaments—Artwork for Scrapbooks and Fabric Transfer.
http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_ss_gw?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Alphabets+%26+Ornaments&x=0&y=0

All beautiful colored vintage images: floral, birds, postcards, music sheets, posters, frames, ledger pages, verse. These can be cut out and used as is—or I can print and size to my heart's content from the bonus CD included. The book appears to be brand-spanking new, never used. In fact, the CD is still sealed in the back.






My mind is racing, and when I awoke at 4:45 this morning, I couldn't go back to sleep.

Continuing with gardening thoughts, yesterday Charlie planted four kinds of potatoes, spinach, Swiss chard, onions, lettuce and radishes. Fresh veggies on their way.




I have to mention one more VERY important thing: I am a grandmother again. Katy Jo Benn Gregory, little sister to Tabitha, was born December 13, 2008. I spent several days with her the end of January—first of February. Needless to say, she's another joy!


Grandma and Katy Jo


Big Sister Tabitha with Katy Jo

I'll try not to let a year pass again beore continuing this saga. Maybe I can even get some follow-up photos posted.

Edited March 26: Just finished reading one of the books bought last week, After the Rain by Thomas Christopher Greene. I just discovered through his website http://www.thomaschristophergreene.com/interior.php/sid/1
and a subsequent e-mail from the author, that this title was published first in the UK and later in the US under the name I'll Never Be Long Gone. I am so anxious now to read his other books, which are available through Amazon, by the way.

Inspiration

Life artist Ali Edwards issued a challenge last year to think of a word and concentrate on it for a year: meditate, take photos or draw pictures representing its meaning, and post the word in a prominent place. I couldn't get focused enough to do this, but I thought about it occasionally.

January 2008 came and I decided My Word should be FOCUS. Get that—"should be." I have a friend who says, "Don't should on yourself."

But, two months have gone by and I haven't really done anything, again, but think about "focus."

A couple mornings ago the light bulb came on: My Word is not "focus" right now, but INSPIRATION. Even though I now knew this to be right for me, at this time, while listening to Dr. Wayne Dyer on PBS the light bulb began pulsing and I realized the truth when he said, "there are no coincidences." When you are in harmony with Spirit and on your own right path, you begin paying attention and become aware that a message is being delivered. (apologies to Dr. Dyer; he's more eloquent.)

How many times in a day lately have I read about "inspiration"? How many times have I been asked to think about what inspires me? How many times have I thought to myself, "This book-quote-story-picture really has inspired me"?

Okay, so Spirit-God has my attention. Dr. Dyer also said that as we develop this awareness, we also must be open, ready and willing because the next step involves doing. Our purpose in life is to serve and give back.

Now I am asking myself:

How? What am I supposed to do? How can I help? Serve? Give back? Am I—perhaps—doing a little bit already?

When I first became serious about photography and was preparing for an exhibit, I was asked to write a statement about myself and photography, something about why I do it and what inspires me. It came to me (another light bulb) I had basically two reasons:

1. I needed some way to preserve, to document, to hold onto a specific: a moment in time, a piece of Nature, a child's expression. These are fleeting happenings, never to be exactly duplicated or repeated. Gifts from God to me.
2. No. 2, I was also struck with the thought that while these were gifts to me, they were not necessarily just for me. I needed to share them because maybe—just maybe—I was the only one who could share this particular thing in a particular way. This seemed to be God's message to me: preserve this memory and share it.

Before I started seriously photographing, I was a reporter and a graphic designer. While I never had such a clear revelation, the theme was there: tell the story.

I found when I was surrounded by Nature, living on the prairie as I was, away from the distractions of city life, traffic, manmade noise, daily reminders of violence and negativity, God's voice was clear and pure, no longer muffled.

I began at first taking pictures of sunsets and fall leaves floating in the creek, for me, because I was starved for this beauty. I picked the wildflowers in the spring and dried grass and seedpods in the fall to bring inside, to save and to savor them.

After a while I no longer had to pick them. I had my photos, and I had begun to recognize the rhythm of Nature, the ebb and flow of the seasons. New versions of the same plant life, different colors in a sunset, patterns of the clouds before a storm. All out my front door.

As I wrote last month, I began writing my IDEAS TO IMAGES blog and have become more involved with scrapbooking for the same reasons: to preserve and to share.

Back to My Word. Dr. Dyer's latest book—are you ready?—is "Inspiration." I don't have it yet, but over the past month I've come across several references (coincidences?) and have checked it out on Amazon.com. I'm ready to order it.




I've read about 10 of his books and have some tape sets. I looked back in my journal a couple years ago to a a list of people I found "most inspirational" (not "influential") in my life. Dr. Dyer is high on that list.

I opened "Simple Abundance" for my daily reading today and what did I find? Ms Van Breathnach says her personal ritual in preparation for work is "priming the pump for inspiration....to access your inner reservoir—that place deep within you inhabited by imagination."

I particularly love one phrase she uses as she describes the setting which includes a "pile of dog-eared books....my circle of saints." The author is referring to people, specifically a group of women writers.

Even though I've read references to "spirit guides" and other descriptions of the muse, this is one to which I'll cling.

I'd include in my "circle" some special people: authors (I've listed some already), artists (Klee, CD Muckowsky, Ali Edwards, Stacy Edwards) relatives (an aunt, my mom, grand-daughter Tabitha), friends; things: a cardinal, my grand-daughter's sweet face, puppies and kittens, a sunset; and music: Tchaikovsky's "Piano Concerto No. 1" and Celtic ballads. There's much more, but you get the picture.




What constitutes your circle of saints? Give it some thought. Write me.