The afternoon brought the blessing of a cool breeze that knocked away the urban mugginess and sent the airy seeds of cottonwood trees dancing through the shade. Thunderheads were flexing big muscles in the west, promising a drum song, but for the moment there was other music.

Montana Quarterly

Summer 2005.

The prairie out here eats optimists. Surivors in this climate have learned to hunker down, expect the worst and live like a prickly pear: close to the ground, where you can save your juices. Thorns have a purpose.