Journal of a Prairie Year - 2nd Edition by Paul Gruchow (Paperback)

About the Book

A lifelong resident of southwestern Minnesota and northwestern Iowa, Paul Gruchow celebrated the few scattered patches of prairie land that remain in a region once dominated by grasslands. Gruchow recorded his thoughts, observations, and experiences in each season on the prairie, eventually compiling them into this moving chronicle of a sometimes harsh but always stunning landscape. Be it the bitter winds of winter, the return of the geese in spring, or the first pasque flower, the cycles of growth on the prairie have the power to move and inspire lovers of nature.

Book Synopsis

"The essential feature of the prairie is its horizon, which you can neither walk to nor touch."

When there is no summit to reach nor farther shore to attain­­--only a constantly receding point between earth and sky to follow--a journey proceeds as much into one's own mind as it does into the natural world. Sauntering through the tall grasses of the prairie, Paul Gruchow engages in just such a boundless journey, exploring simultaneously the subtle beauty of the Great Plains and the mind's astonishment as such grandeur.

Charting one cycle of seasons, Journal of a Prairie Year reveals countless cycles of thought: the innumerable sounds of winter snow beg us to understand its song; the fecundity of spring questions the accuracy of naming its abundance; the tenacity of prairie roots in a summer drought contrast with the shallow roots of our culture; and the mortality of fall mirrors our steady destruction of a once seemingly infinite expanse.

The result is equal parts phenology and philosophy, a blend of natural and human history from a writer who "makes empty places full and a reader's imagination soar" (Washington Post): calling us to remember a threatened world, and urging us to reach for its unmarred horizon.

Review Quotes

"Gruchow writes of the glare of moonlight on snow; of the impulse to name and possess things in the natural world; of prairie phlox, garter snakes, and the dust in the air that turns the sunlight crimson . . . an alertness permeates this enduring book."
--Los Angeles Times