The fields surrounding Killdeer Plains are striking.
Freshly cut of their wheat crop, and carried away as golden bales of straw, this yawning space devoid of hills or homes, becomes a stage upon which dramatic skies dance.
And, as one from the more rolling and wooded corner of the state, I found it hard to not always be standing, looking up in admiration, as if I’d never seen these same clouds pass, just 3 hours south, though I know it must be so.
The ocean above,
greater than one of water,
I play at the edge.
I play at the edge.
Cutleaf teasel, Dipsacus laciniatus, is a larger cousin to the purple-flowered, common teasel, Dipsacus fullonum, of my fields, and lines the roadways here. Both invasive non-natives, the cutleaf's white flower heads stand taller and its fancier leaves spread broadly at the base and adorn a reddish stem.