Mike,

Two months ago, Beth & I drove up to the Pawnee National Grasslands in the northeast corner of Colorado, close to the borders of Wyoming, Nebraska, and Kansas. We wondered if it was like the Kansas prairie that we drove through last January, or like the prairie that your father grew up in. It turned out to be drier and windier than we expected. So windy it was, we had to drop our plan of hiking to the Pawnee Buttes, the most mountain-like things the early settlers saw on their travel west to the Rockies. In gusts, we could barely stand up. It’s an ideal place for wind power mills, and that’s where most of Colorado’s wind power comes from.

This contains an embedded movie of some tumbling tumbleweeds, to provide a touch of the spirit of the winds.

–rakkity

I reckon there’s a Minnesotan who clicked on this link and promptly passed out. You see, Matt and I usually wait until the last minute when the only trees remaining have bare spots like clear cuts and pine needles like sewing needles. And, typically, we haven’t gotten off our lazy behinds until prompted by the chief decorator, FierceBaby.

Don’t know is my answer. Diane asked me to do our banking and while I was out I just figured it’d be good to get one more chore done.

Where’s the robe?

My Life In Rooms