Thomas D. Isern's Blog: Willow Creek: A Writing Journal, page 2

October 10, 2023

WCFS No. 152

Willow Creek Folk School No. 152 is uploaded to YouTube - https://youtu.be/cOjdtFdclmM?si=VVRfv...

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Published on October 10, 2023 12:52

October 9, 2023

The Buzz of Partridge

Last week on Prairie Public - https://news.prairiepublic.org/podcas...

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Published on October 09, 2023 06:57

October 2, 2023

Double Tragedy in Edgeley

Last week on Prairie Public - https://news.prairiepublic.org/podcas...

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Published on October 02, 2023 20:48

September 11, 2023

Here and there in the big pastures of the Missouri Coteau where Little Angie and I walk for sharptail grouse, we encounter a buffalo rub--a glacial erratic polished by the rubbing of great herbivores. These ancient landmarks are our touchstones in the middle of a long hike. Here I say, "Angie, I'm going to sit with this rock a while and rest my legs," and Angie says, "That's a great idea, Dad." Then we contemplate the grass and sky for a while and maybe doze off. In memory, this always is the highlight of what the Icelandic sage Snorri Thorfinnson called "autumn's rare and glorious days." A hike through the Coteau is a pleasure throughout, and if there are birds, that's a bonus, but the experience requires puncutation marks of pause and reflection. And I wonder if these rubs were matters of chance encounter to the great beasts of the past, or whether they were objects of herd memory, things sought out. I like to think the latter. I like to think I have some common experience with other intelligences on the land. I know also, though, that often the finest documents and artifacts of our long experience here are creations of inadvertence, left for successors to savor and infer meaning.

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Published on September 11, 2023 05:27 • Tags: greatplains