July | August 2006 Volume 80 Issue 4 |
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My Colorado Prairie Heart By Jari Thymian Nineteen years ago, my U-Haul truck blew its water pump at Sterling. Like many, I left behind a life on the Minnesota prairie. I was done being a flatlander. Since then, my views of the eastern Colorado plains were from inside my car or from the air on my hurried visits back to Minnesota. My perception changed three years ago when I vacationed for five days at a cattle ranch a few miles outside of Kit Carson. My ranchmates included two cats and Mr. Peacock. Each evening at dusk, the large bird flew to the top of the farmyard's light pole and faithfully stood guard all night. Instead of watching TV, I pulled up a chair to the sky's drama—heat lightning. I often recall the nights I awakened between 2 and 3 a.m. to witness the peak of starlight brilliance. Sleep recaptured me with tears of awe in my eyes. Like clockwork, Mr. Peacock came down from his ultra-high roost at sunrise. Each morning, box turtles, rabbits and antelope were my running companions through pastureland covered with sage and yucca. I followed stream beds lined with huge cottonwoods. In Kit Carson, the owner of Mary's Market showed me her beautiful hand-made quilts that hung on the wall of the store. “I do it because I love it,” she said. The warm peach pie at the Trading Post tasted like it was made for the same reason. The caretaker of the Kit Carson Museum opened the doors just for me, even though he'd already closed it for the season. When I experienced the details of eastern Colorado, I found a place that expanded my prairie heart in a state already dear to me.
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