I’ve changed my header…notice the snow. This is the Kansas I remember. The Kansas I’ve come home to. It’s not the Pennsylvania mountains, not winding roads and trees, but it’s home, home on the range.
As I drove I-70, I drank in the miles and miles of flat land. The pastures and farmland, blanketed in snow. I could see the horizon. I could see the sunrise and sunset. And the stars, there’s no place like Kansas to gaze at the heavens.
I’ve often heard those that don’t live in Kansas complain about flat roads and nothing to see. Oh my, what I can see on those flat roads.
I love the sight of farm elevators in the distance, tall towers of white reaching into the sky. Most usually a blue sky full of billowing clouds. If you really, really want to love Kansas…take some time on a warm afternoon, lay back in your car seat or on the grass and watch the clouds. I see faces, I see animals, I see castles, I see God.
I love the sight of miles and miles of electric poles spreading out before me. One after another they form the most beautiful line of crosses far into the distance.
I love pastures planted in crops or prairie grass, each section of fence in a perfect square grid for miles and miles. Green fields of winter wheat, when all else is brown and dormant. I love white chalk roads that lay before me leading far away into the horizon.
Kansas is quiet. Kansas is simple. Kansas is friendly. Kansas is peaceful. And Kansan’s know how to enjoy the small things.
Gotta share ‘Home on the Range’ like you’ve never heard it before:
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