On the fourth day of our motorcycle trip. Jim was running out front on his V65 Magna, as I cruised along on my Goldwing. It was tough to keep my eyes on the highway, because the prairie winds sent the waist-high grass rolling in an amazing display of undulating amber and emerald waves. These waves rolled down the slopes of the hillsides until they crashed on the shoreline of the road, like an angry sea smashing into a pier before a storm.
Identifying many of these plants was a struggle, because botany class was far behind me. However, I was struck by two thoughts. 1.) How awesome a God we have to create such a place for us to explore, and share. And 2.) I was glad it wasn’t spit weed.