I feel like a kid again whenever I come into contact with prairie grass. We lived on the edge of suburbia, just a five-minute drive away from an emu farm and a christmas tree farm where we would go pick out a tree and drink hot cocoa every winter. The neighboring plots of land weren't settled yet (they've since become the usual Walmarts and chain everything that you would expect, with the predictable bonus of an alcohol superstore). They were wild and the prairie grass stood tall, and my brother and I would run through it, happily scratching up our legs and listening to the rustling of grass in the wind.
Beautiful prairie grass on the Midwestern plains
Copyright Alexandra Lucas 2016