In the beginning there were no canyons,” he told me. “There were no canyons in the Great Plains, but instead only broad, open spaces where rich grasses waved in the winds.” Intrigued, I sat and listened as he told his tale. He told me of a day when the Master of the Earth walked all over the broad land and asked the Prairie, “Where are your flowers?” The Prairie replied simply, “I have no seeds.” So the Master gave his orders to the birds of the air until they flocked from north, south, east and west, each bearing a seed to drop upon the fertile ground. Soon enough the Prairie bloomed with the bright colors of crocuses and sunflowers, of lillies and roses, of aster and clover. When the flowers had grown and their rich colors had brightened the land, the Master returned to the Prairie and was well pleased. Yet even in his pleasure he observed that some of his favorite flowers were still missing. Once again he spoke to the Prairie and asked, “Where are the clematis and the columbine? Where are the violets and ferns? Where are the flowering shrubs I love so much?” “Master,” replied the Prairie with sorrow, “I have tried, but I cannot keep those flowers, for the sun beats hot upon them and scorches them before they can grow. The wind blows hard upon them and drives them away before they can put down roots. I have tried, my Master. Won’t you help me?” So the Master spoke … Continue reading In the Beginning There Were No Canyons