short girl, tall grass.

one lovely day in early autumn a girl and some friends ventured into the kansas prairie.

this prairie is known as the flint hills of kansas.

that girl is me, by the way.

i loved this white horse.

it is standing in front of a large limestone barn, dating back to homestead days. of yonder.

inside the barn were many wonders.

including a chance to become rangers, and point to wildflowers, and wave to friends.

and homestead tools.

i'm not sure if the tools are originals, but the cobwebs may be.

here is a guide to kansas birds.

what this guide doesn't tell you is many of these birds aren't just kansas birds.

birds don't pay attention to state lines. the killdeer, for example, just looks for waterlines.

that could mean a salt lake city swimming pool.

or not.

we almost hit one with our car the other day.

in the second row from the bottom, second from the left, is a scissor tailed fly catcher.

i have set a personal goal of seeing one while i live in here.

(it hasn't happened yet).

but the flint hills don't happen in a barn.

the flint hills are outside these doors.

(also outside these doors is that mystical white horse).

and the farm house.

and... a church?

no.

the woman who lived here was so afraid of kansas weather that she wanted every safety precaution possible at all times.

this is, quite possibly, the world's most secure outhouse.

told you...

anyway.

welcome to the prairie!

this is the nation (of the united states of america)'s last remaining 4% of untouched tallgrass prairie land.

and here's judd, learning all about it.

and here, lest we forget, is a mystical white horse.

... just existing in a prairie...

... but we couldn't let that distract us.

we had a 2 hour hike to accomplish.

and too many cool bugs to see.

so many cool bugs.

if i learned one thing on this hike, and i probably did, it's that there are an uncountable amount of variations of crickets.

here i am.

probably standing still so the crickets won't eat me.

rolling hills, shallow pond, and eternal, unchanging horizon.

wildflowers still in bloom.

"the flint hills-- hike for hours, and see where you're going, and see where you've been"

at least we weren't doing it in a handcart.

i kept picturing that.

we were planning on walking for a few miles, turning back to the car, heading back, and hitting a bar or two.

hard to imagine setting out in a weird reverse wheelbarrow with everything you owned, not knowing where you were going, but walking anyway.

just to leave.

it's easy to picture that somewhere like here, though.

it felt untouched.

our reward for our efforts: peanut butter and jelly on a hill.

in a big pasture.