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Where The Sky Began: Land of the Tallgrass Prairie
“It was a flowing emerald in spring and summer when the boundless winds ran across it, a tawny ocean under the winds of autumn, and a stark and painful emptiness when the great long winds drove in from the northwest. It was Beulahland for many; Gehenna for some. It was the tall prairie.”—from the “Prologue”
Originally published in 1982, Where the Sky Began , John Madson’s landmark publication, introduced readers across the nation to the wonders of the tallgrass prairie, sparking the current interest in prairie restoration. Now back in print, this classic tome will serve as inspiration to those just learning about the heartland’s native landscape and rekindle the passion of long-time prairie enthusiasts.
Originally published in 1982, Where the Sky Began , John Madson’s landmark publication, introduced readers across the nation to the wonders of the tallgrass prairie, sparking the current interest in prairie restoration. Now back in print, this classic tome will serve as inspiration to those just learning about the heartland’s native landscape and rekindle the passion of long-time prairie enthusiasts.
340 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1982
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Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews
July 16, 2013
This book was a joy to read. I have always been interested in the natural (and human) history of the tallgrass prairie, but it was a blast to read a book written by a man so passionate about this part of the country. He pretty much did it all; excellent coverage of the fauna and flora of the tallgrass prairie, getting into the science of how plants and animals survive in such a region (and why there is a tallgrass prairie to begin with, delving into issues of geology and climate), riveting descriptions of the human history of this land, including Native Americans, initial exploration by European settlers, early pioneers, and the lives since then of those who have made this land their home, poetic descriptions of the light, wildflowers, and bird song of the place, homespun true-life tales from his childhood and early adulthood living in the grassland, hunting, fishing, farming, and enjoying the birds, insects, wildflowers, and other fauna and flora of the prairie, and finally a section on preserving, expanding, and restoring the tallgrass prairie.
I just love the way he wrote! One of my favorite passages, in a chapter about what early explorers and pioneers first found in the tallgrass prairire (in my copy on page 19):
“It was a land of excess – of blazing light and great weathers where a man stood exposed, fully revealed. Some men reveled in this – in being the tallest solid figure in a landscape, regarding horizons at eye level and casting a shadow fifty yards long. Others felt shrunken by it, diminished spiritually and physically, and crept back into the sheltering forest from which they had come.”
Later on, continuing his theme about how grasslands can really change how a person thinks and feels, he talked about some of the great grassland cultures – the Sioux, the Comanche, the Cossacks, the Mongols – “grasslanders all,” who were affected by the “mood of the land,” the grasslands stimulating these “people with its openness, hyperventilating them with freedom in a world of open skylines and few secrets. Such grasslanders never seemed to harbor the nasty little superstitions that flourish in fetid jungles and dank forests. Their superstitions were taller, their sagas and legends more airy and broad, and running through their cultures was a level conviction that they were the elite. While some forest people retreated into shadowlands, men of the open had no choice but to breast the fuller world –and often came to do so with pride and even arrogance.” (Page 53 in my copy).
I loved how he went to again and again the idea that the tallgrass prairie is a battleground in more ways than one. Trees in most areas of the tallgrass prairie (and trees there were and are) existed at the “sufferance of grass…[as] the grass seemed jealous of its great spaces.” The line between prairie and forest may be sharp but it has continually ebbed and flowed, as fingers of prairie invade east and eastern forest trees move west along watercourses and with settlers, a hard fought battle as climax prairie is not easily taken over by trees while prairie cannot easily invade forest, the “grimmest conflict,” one that has silently occurred for millions of years.
Not only is the region a vast arena where two different ecosystems fight, but it is also “an ancient warring –place of the subtropical and subarctic, each seeming to strive for its old sovereignty in a conflict of great continental weathers”….this is the land of the tornado, huge and epic droughts, the fearsome prairie blizzard, and the no less fearsome prairie fire, all vividly described.
There were lots of things I didn’t know about the tallgrass prairie. I had no idea how tall it was; in some areas grasses grew up to 12 feet tall! Just as forests in the eastern U.S. are divided into sub regions, characterized by their dominant trees, be they say Longleaf Pine or one of the many oak or maple species, so too were different areas of the grasslands characterized by specific grass species (tallgrass was dominated by Big Bluestem Grass, while mixed prairie of tall and short grasses was dominated by Little Bluestem, a grass I have been thrilled to find growing where I live in north Alabama; it really is quite lovely in the fall). In fact, even within a given section of tallgrass prairie, there were different communities of grass in various microhabitats, some species thriving in damp, low spots, others instead favoring higher, drier areas, the differences in elevations perhaps miniscule but a world of difference to native plants, animals, the Native Americans, and later pioneers and settlers in terms of travel, hunting, and farming. These grass species, far from looking just like “grass” were quite distinctive and easily recognizable to those who lived off the land, with some providing substitutes for firewood, others suitable hay, or even building material.
Though I love how he gives grasses their due, Madson did not shirk on describing the flowering plants of the grassland, lovingly describing their appearance, coloration, role in the prairie ecology, and providing not only both common names and nicknames but also scientific names (accompanied by black and white drawings). He even wrote in one section that the summer prairie should be called “daisyland,” as it is aesthetically dominated by members of the daisy or aster family, “a flaming riot of goldenrods, ironweeds, bonesets, fleabanes, daisies, coneflowers, sunflowers, asters, blazing-stars, rosinweeds, compass-plants.”
Animals certainly get their due, with an interesting discussion on tallgrass prairie bison (it might not have been prime habitat for them and there seems to be debates about how common they were), great descriptions of the ravages of the Rocky Mountain Locust (now extinct), the plains pocket gopher (the tallgrass equivalent to the prairie dog of the plains, and yes the tallgrass prairie and the plains are different places), and the prairie chicken (settlement initially increased their numbers but in the end doomed most populations).
Simply a great book of human and natural history, I really recommend to anyone even vaguely interested in the region.
I just love the way he wrote! One of my favorite passages, in a chapter about what early explorers and pioneers first found in the tallgrass prairire (in my copy on page 19):
“It was a land of excess – of blazing light and great weathers where a man stood exposed, fully revealed. Some men reveled in this – in being the tallest solid figure in a landscape, regarding horizons at eye level and casting a shadow fifty yards long. Others felt shrunken by it, diminished spiritually and physically, and crept back into the sheltering forest from which they had come.”
Later on, continuing his theme about how grasslands can really change how a person thinks and feels, he talked about some of the great grassland cultures – the Sioux, the Comanche, the Cossacks, the Mongols – “grasslanders all,” who were affected by the “mood of the land,” the grasslands stimulating these “people with its openness, hyperventilating them with freedom in a world of open skylines and few secrets. Such grasslanders never seemed to harbor the nasty little superstitions that flourish in fetid jungles and dank forests. Their superstitions were taller, their sagas and legends more airy and broad, and running through their cultures was a level conviction that they were the elite. While some forest people retreated into shadowlands, men of the open had no choice but to breast the fuller world –and often came to do so with pride and even arrogance.” (Page 53 in my copy).
I loved how he went to again and again the idea that the tallgrass prairie is a battleground in more ways than one. Trees in most areas of the tallgrass prairie (and trees there were and are) existed at the “sufferance of grass…[as] the grass seemed jealous of its great spaces.” The line between prairie and forest may be sharp but it has continually ebbed and flowed, as fingers of prairie invade east and eastern forest trees move west along watercourses and with settlers, a hard fought battle as climax prairie is not easily taken over by trees while prairie cannot easily invade forest, the “grimmest conflict,” one that has silently occurred for millions of years.
Not only is the region a vast arena where two different ecosystems fight, but it is also “an ancient warring –place of the subtropical and subarctic, each seeming to strive for its old sovereignty in a conflict of great continental weathers”….this is the land of the tornado, huge and epic droughts, the fearsome prairie blizzard, and the no less fearsome prairie fire, all vividly described.
There were lots of things I didn’t know about the tallgrass prairie. I had no idea how tall it was; in some areas grasses grew up to 12 feet tall! Just as forests in the eastern U.S. are divided into sub regions, characterized by their dominant trees, be they say Longleaf Pine or one of the many oak or maple species, so too were different areas of the grasslands characterized by specific grass species (tallgrass was dominated by Big Bluestem Grass, while mixed prairie of tall and short grasses was dominated by Little Bluestem, a grass I have been thrilled to find growing where I live in north Alabama; it really is quite lovely in the fall). In fact, even within a given section of tallgrass prairie, there were different communities of grass in various microhabitats, some species thriving in damp, low spots, others instead favoring higher, drier areas, the differences in elevations perhaps miniscule but a world of difference to native plants, animals, the Native Americans, and later pioneers and settlers in terms of travel, hunting, and farming. These grass species, far from looking just like “grass” were quite distinctive and easily recognizable to those who lived off the land, with some providing substitutes for firewood, others suitable hay, or even building material.
Though I love how he gives grasses their due, Madson did not shirk on describing the flowering plants of the grassland, lovingly describing their appearance, coloration, role in the prairie ecology, and providing not only both common names and nicknames but also scientific names (accompanied by black and white drawings). He even wrote in one section that the summer prairie should be called “daisyland,” as it is aesthetically dominated by members of the daisy or aster family, “a flaming riot of goldenrods, ironweeds, bonesets, fleabanes, daisies, coneflowers, sunflowers, asters, blazing-stars, rosinweeds, compass-plants.”
Animals certainly get their due, with an interesting discussion on tallgrass prairie bison (it might not have been prime habitat for them and there seems to be debates about how common they were), great descriptions of the ravages of the Rocky Mountain Locust (now extinct), the plains pocket gopher (the tallgrass equivalent to the prairie dog of the plains, and yes the tallgrass prairie and the plains are different places), and the prairie chicken (settlement initially increased their numbers but in the end doomed most populations).
Simply a great book of human and natural history, I really recommend to anyone even vaguely interested in the region.
March 25, 2020
I really appreciated and am glad to have read this book. Madson does a great job of painting the picture of the prairie from historical, technical, and personal perspectives that never dives too far down boring rabbit holes. He has a witty style of writing that I appreciated. This book is great for a person wanting to know more about the terrain of where we live. It is technical enough to feel like you’re reading quality information without being unapproachable to the casual reader. Admittedly it was slow at times, but he always seemed to change directions whenever I was about to lose interest.
October 1, 2019
I would read the sections on the botany and geology of the plains and put this book back after that. The writing is lovely, but his social observations have not aged well. A natural history of the plains that treats its native peoples with total disinterest while casting white farmers as near-mythological heroes is not the thing in 2019.
December 21, 2024
Beautifully written and a wealth of information on the tallgrass prairie. My only disappointment with this book was that in telling the story of humankind’s historic relationship to the prairie, the author completely left out accounts of Native American history, instead focusing entirely on white settlers. I found this to be a huge gap in an otherwise extremely comprehensive book. Still a classic and a must-read for any prairie or native plant enthusiast.
January 27, 2025
From the viewpoint of an Australian grasslands ecologist this is an interesting introduction to some of the history and ecology of the North American tallgrass prairie, an analogous biome to temperate grasslands in Australia in some ways. It covers plants, animals, soils, geology, colonial history, weather and so on so it's quite comprehensive. And it ends on a discussion of prairie restoration which is valuable and interesting since that's roughly what I do and probably a very large part of the future of grasslands if they are to have a future at all.
The book is written in a fairly engaging way, although there's only so much enthusing about this and that plant a reader can take, at least when you aren't directly familiar with them. Notably, the Indigenous peoples of the tallgrass prairie are mostly invisible in the narrative, and the arrival of the colonists is presented as though they were arriving in terra nullius, which is quite disappointing.
The book is written in a fairly engaging way, although there's only so much enthusing about this and that plant a reader can take, at least when you aren't directly familiar with them. Notably, the Indigenous peoples of the tallgrass prairie are mostly invisible in the narrative, and the arrival of the colonists is presented as though they were arriving in terra nullius, which is quite disappointing.
July 26, 2023
An engaging, detailed, heartfelt profile of the tallgrass ecosystem of central North America. Madson's writing is always careful and precise, and at times lyrical and wistful. Approximately 60% of the book is natural history, and 40% is human history, though the two foci are not mutually exclusive. The revised edition that I read contains an extensive review of prairie restoration in the final chapter. The book includes two appendices: source material, and locations where the public can visit tallgrass prairies.
September 14, 2017
A useful mix of useful background and poetic native descriptions. Learned a ton about the plants, culture, and history of Iowa and the Tallgrass Prairie. A must-read for someone who wants to know more about this landscape, or rather, what the landscape used to be.
April 30, 2023
I read this book out loud to a man with dementia and it calmed him as I read and then he had one of his best night sleeps.
May 7, 2024
After driving through south Dakota, Nebraska, Kansas, and Kentucky I wanted to read more about the prairie. This is getting a little old but still an important book on the topic.
April 16, 2014
Call it the Heartland, Corn Belt, Breadbasket, or just the Midwest. This region of the United States that now produces corn, soybeans, wheat, and other staples owes its fertility to the prairie grasses that thrived in the region for thousands of years before John Deere. Today, almost none of the original prairie remains, but poetic author John Madson vividly portrays the vast tallgrass prairies of Iowa that will make you long for the romantic frontier life.
Madson’s story grabs at the imagination and memory with his descriptions of towering thunderheads and treacherous blizzards. The fears of the first settlers are palatable in his stories of people and livestock becoming lost in the thick grasses that could swallow the largest beasts. And you will be inspired to plant your own prairie garden by his delightful descriptions of the native flowers and grasses.
If you grew up in the prairie plains, this book will take you home. So start reading it today.
Madson’s story grabs at the imagination and memory with his descriptions of towering thunderheads and treacherous blizzards. The fears of the first settlers are palatable in his stories of people and livestock becoming lost in the thick grasses that could swallow the largest beasts. And you will be inspired to plant your own prairie garden by his delightful descriptions of the native flowers and grasses.
If you grew up in the prairie plains, this book will take you home. So start reading it today.
June 21, 2016
I'm sure many of my Midwest environmentalist friends read this book long ago. Published in 1982, it's a beautiful treatise on the tall-grass prairie. Part science, part memoir, part history and part folk legend, John Madson reminds us that the tall-grass prairie, in the end,
will be more resilient than its "tamers."
will be more resilient than its "tamers."
April 14, 2016
Beautiful tribute to the tallgrass prairies of the Midwest from the big bluestem grasses to the prairie chicken to the people who worked the land with endurance and independence. Rich in detail and with poetic imagery , Madson describes the splendor and hardships of the prairies and provides some information about the efforts being implemented for prairie restoration.
July 27, 2011
Inspiring and wonderful. Recommend to interest people in the topic and for background.
September 14, 2011
A great book if you want to know the personality of plants that inhabit the tall grass prairie. More than a simple textbook, it has personal revelations by the author.
February 6, 2016
Must read for the ecology and natural history of tall grass prairies.
June 5, 2014
Read it for the second time and it was just as good and informative as it was the first time. Looking forward to a book discussion group at the Prairie Heritage Center!
June 15, 2014
Good book looking forward to going to a discussion of this book Tuesday
Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews