Pawnee Grasslands: A Kingdom Unto Its Own
The distant thunderhead was towering high enough to scrape the moon, which hung in the sky like a silver kite. The onset of dusk painted the westerly side of the storm vermilion; the lightning flashes and thunder-quakes tickled our senses like little chemical jolts, visceral but evanescent. “Shouldn’t we, um, take cover?” asked my companion, … Read more