Walking out to the Lesser Prairie Chicken leks in the dark was my favorite time of day. In the big, open pastures of Kansas ranchland, there was little to navigate by except the stars. At my favorite lek, I found the traps between the bright stars of the Big Dipper and Cassiopeia. I was alone and all was quiet except for the yipping of coyotes in the distance. My breath steamed in front of my face as I bent to adjust a funnel trap opening or hammer a stake deeper into the ground. The air was crisp and clean. Sometimes cattle eyes glowed nearby. The moon was huge, like a giant flashlight when full, and more detailed than I ever remembered seeing it. When everything was ready, I settled into the blind, drank coffee and waited for the prairie chickens to dance and boom into the most beautiful sunrise I’d ever seen. I used to think that sunrise in the mountains, with the pink alpenglow and dramatic scenery, was the best. But on the prairie, the sun consumes the horizon. Pink, purple and orange glow in 360 degrees, setting the earth on fire. Prairie sunrises look like the world is ending and being reborn every single day.
Tall grass prairie is unexpectedly beautiful, treacherous, awful and wonderful at the same time. The people and wildlife found on it are alike in that they are resilient and strong. The tall grass prairie is also one of the most endangered ecosystems on our planet. I am glad to have seen it in my lifetime.