Dancing Grass, Flat Light

I enjoyed a phenomenal light show last night at dusk and again this morning upon rising. Last night the sky reflected bright red as the sun dropped behind Square Butte while the mountains to the south were painted pink and purple. Truly "purple mountain's majesty" above the fruited plain? I suppose one could call the plain fruited at this time of the year when the grasses and wild flowers are in full bloom. Heavy high clouds moved in as the sun sank low enough to shine between the clouds and the horizon creating a type of light that looks and feels surreal. It's light that I see once in a while at dusk or at dawn that creates an odd feeling--a sort of flatness--if that makes any sense. It's as if space has been reduced to two dimensions. It's very weird, and I like the feeling, although it only lasts a few minutes.

This morning the grasses beyond the fence danced and waved as the storm approached behind the driving wind. It's hard to describe how the tall grasses dance and wave, it's as if a giant invisible hand playfully sweeps across the meadows and fields causing the grasses to yield to its touch as the sun glistens off the dew creating a colorful shimmery illusion. The line, "amber waves of grain" falls flat as an accurate description. There is so much more going on that defies words. The prairie is alive on more levels than I can perceive with my five senses. I suspect that I am feeling that aliveness, but have yet not found a way to put my perception into words. For now let me say, "and so it is". And as my senses sharpen, MORE will come into focus. I look forward with anticipation.