The prairie is teeming with monarda seed heads but each one is extraordinary in its own right.
At a glance, winter is a dreary scene. Monochromatic. Bleak.
In reality, every season has a palette. Winter is rich with subtlety. Infinite gradations of brown, gray and white. And then, the shock of orange. Red. Gold. Colors that speak of sunlight. Heat. Blood. And honey.
I mentioned that we made a trip to Morris, MN the other day. Today I’m excited to share the reason for our trip!
The University of Minnesota – Morris purchased these five pictures for the new, sustainable Green Prairie Living & Learning Community building on campus. That means the prints are also part of the University’s permanent collection!
These pictures are part of the ‘Winter Prairie’ series I worked on in 2013 featuring images from the urban prairie restoration garden near my home. I’m pleased that these wild prairie darlings are now permanently situated in their natural environment: a true prairie ecosystem in western Minnesota.
Each time I visit the prairie garden, something new is in bloom. On this day, the wild indigo was just beginning to open. Like fingertips to the sky, the emergent blooms remind me of a good, whole-body stretch, reaching, reaching. There is a sense of potential, of surging wild and pulsing indigo on the rise.
One of the things I like to do is look up common names of flowers. The early spring prairie blooms I’ve always called pasque flowers have many more poetic and evocative names: wind flower, prairie crocus, meadow anemone. What’s in a name? Maybe. But I think I’ll call these beauties wind flowers from now on.