Earlier last month I went on a succulent shopping spree. Having killed the majority of my plants over the past year, I feel as if I now have a firm grasp on what not to do when trying to grow succulents. With some extra help from a few friendly workers at Home Depot, and this wonderful article from Kinfolk Magazine, I am feeling effervescent (my word of the day). Lookout, Spring, here I come.

“Often by April the snow has melted, to return to the prairie, one hopes, only for brief periods. It is a season of muted colour that holds a special beauty.”

Emory

The above quote comes from Courtney Milne, Prairie Light

“The prairie is not the kind of place that reaches out and plucks at your romantic heart strings, as do the Rocky Mountains or the sea. The prairie is quiet, gentle, and unassuming, with only fleeting moments of passion and drama. But its dominant moodiness makes the times of vibrant colour all the more exquisite! Now I am amused by people who tell me they find the prairie drab and colourless. Granted the prairie can look monotonous if all you do is drive through it at a hundred kilometres an hour. You need to spend time on the prairie to appreciate the many facets of its personality. Even then, you must take time to look and experience its subtle shifts in temperament. Dull, overcast days offer the best conditions to observe the landscape close-up, yet these are the very occasions when we are least likely to give this land its due. When the tones are even, devoid of bright highlights, or distracting shadows, we can better appreciate the subtle nuances of colour. 

“The prairie is a land of extremes, an immense land that touches all who inhabit it. Neither city nor town offers sanctuary from nature’s dominion. Prairie skies put human architecture in its place; prairie storms recognize no boundaries …

“The immensity of the prairie can overwhelm with a sense of man’s insignificance or offer a profound sense of contentment and peace or exhilarate with a vision of nature’s potency and a grander scheme of things. Whatever the response the prairie will not be ignored … “

– Courtney Milne, Prairie Light

I recently came across Prairie Light while I was at work. To my good fortune, the branch that I was at was withdrawing this book from their collection. One of the perks of working within a library is that you get first dibs on every item that is chosen to become a donation to the Friends of the Library Shop. As soon as I held Prairie Light in my arms, I knew that I was about to become inspired by many blog posts to come. I only had to read the introduction to the book to discover that all of my own feelings that I have ever possessed towards the prairies were laid out on the pages with such eloquence and grace. I felt as if this book described prairie life in a way that I never could, and yet, had given me clues as to how I will feel towards it in the not so distant future. For those of you who were ever curious about the Canadian prairies, here is the first of a two part photography adventure, with excerpts from Courtney Milne, the talent behind my latest and motivating find. 

“The prairie landscape is, for me, a visual feast that continues to bring joy as well as scope for expression. But it was not always that way. As a child I loathed the harsh winters, but gained healthy respect for the elements. It was on my daily treks to school that I learned to judge how far I could go without freezing my flesh.

“My only childhood memory of vivid prairie colour is watching sunsets. I remember the deep crimson that would linger long after sundown. Yet even the sunset was tainted with the unhappy acknowledgement that I had to go in and get my homework finished.

“I remained on the prairie until I finished university. My first move thereafter was to the land of my childhood dreams, California. It was only then that I realized just how special were the prairie sunsets. My evenings felt lonely and incomplete when the sun dropped out of sight and the sky turned black. The darkness, the continual traffic noise, and the police sirens were poor substitutes for the evening light of home.

“When I returned to the prairie the landscape looked more attractive to me than I remembered. I welcomed the wide open spaces and the sense of freedom endorsed by the infinite prairie skies. I liked the unpredictability and the excitement of the storms. I felt drawn by the vibrancy and sensuality of the prairie colour, and to the distinctiveness of the seasons. No more struggle to remember what month it was; I had only to glance out the window and see the date written on the land or in the trees, or announced by the song of the meadowlark. Prairie light seemed to range across the complete spectrum of human emotion. Identifying with its variety of moods enlarged and enriched my vision.”

– Courtney Milne, Prairie Light