Prairie Medium, supernatural stories and prairie life
Prairie Medium, supernatural stories and prairie life
It wasn’t me! It was his fault! All three of them just sitting there looking the other way. None of them copping on the truth. Thirty minutes earlier, we were out hiking when I stopped to snap a photo. That’s when I heard Bandit barking for his siblings, “Let’s chase the cat!” I know that […]
I’m always amazed at what shows up when least expected. This photo for one. It was taken back in 1996 or so. I came back to Nebraska to visit Mom and this space. I had been returning since my folks had purchased their land in the late 1970’s. Mom and Dad had been invited to
The Reluctant Medium Read More »
W. Reynold Brown On August 24, 1991, my father, W. Reynold Brown, died in West Nebraska. His remains are buried in the prairie cemetery near his home. I dislike using the word “died” because the accepted euphemisms conjure the same limited thoughts. Passed. Expired. Perished. End. These words perpetuate the belief that life is no
Dad’s Anniversary. Read More »
I have been sitting on this news for over a month. July 22, 2023, Cynthia Springs, author of her Greater Reality trilogy, called in excitement, “Book Three, Seven Stories To Light the Way Home, is out on Amazon, and your writing is featured.” “You’re published!” she said. The stories presented are for anyone who is
It’s Wheat Harvest Season. This may be my favorite time of the year –or one of many. Checking the wheat for harvest. It has been a difficult wait for the grain to mature. This summer brought lots of rain, and the grain slowly matured. Finally, in mid-August, the time is ripe with excitement in the
Wet, Wild, and Wonderful. June came through here fast and furious with all the furor Nature could bring. Inches of rain poured down upon the land. Wheat, alfalfa, and pasture grasses drank up the moisture as fast as she could send it. We have been suffering from drought for several years. June proved to be
June came and now…. GONE! Read More »
I looked like a mess. My shirt was thoroughly wrinkled, and my hair stuck out in every direction, but I went out the door looking like this anyway. My 4×4 TrailBlazer, well, that, too, needed to be washed. Several inches of mud coated the inside of its wheel wells, the side panels, and the inner
Dentist, Cicada and Me Read More »
I live on The Edge. My home is on the edge —where the prairie meets the forest. Here, the Sandhills border farmlands. Wildlife and domestic cross along the same game trails. I climb to the top of the sandstone buttes behind my home. There, I can see far to the north, more than 50 miles,
Since spring is happening on the prairie, it is also in young men and women’s hearts and thoughts. It is hard to find a partner when there are more cows than people. Most of the time is spent riding fence lines or planting for the future of the land, be it corn or pasture hay.
The Cowboy and the Farmgirl Read More »
Nearly every day, I listen to Mariah. Her voice — constant, from a light breeze to a fierce energy-pummeling force. She carries dust, dirt, snow, and rain; occasionally, she lightly drifts in with the softest of whispers, gently stroking the prairie grasses along her path. But today, she descends upon the landscape. Spring is here,