Turning south again I headed past Munson and onto the flatlands that run west from the Hand Hills. The sun was low now and about to dip into clouds along the western horizon. A fingernail of moon floated in the blue above as I pulled up by yet another old farmstead. I shot a couple of pictures and sat in the truck for a few moments as the cold of the coming night spread across the prairie. I thought of the lonely nights spent here and at the other old places I'd seen by pioneering families out to make themselves a good life.
Owls live here now.
And they seem to like it just fine. We welcome your feedback. All rights reserved.