The tallgrass prairie dominated this part of Texas two centuries ago. Most of it is gone now, turned into suburban backyards and parking lots, with only a small amount held safe in prairie preserves. But we're lucky enough to have a tiny bit of mostly native prairie, about four acres, on our property. And this year, the grass is really, really, really tall. Bill is 6'1", and he's looking up at the tip of this bluestem, which makes that grass, oh, maybe 6'5". And that wasn't the only stalk that high--there was plenty more. So the next time you read that on the native prairies, the grass was as high as the horses' backs, believe it.
Actually, what Bill is looking at in this photo is a non-native bluestem, King Ranch (KR) bluestem, that was brought to Texas from China, by way of California. It's more aggressive and more drought-tolerant than the native turkeyfoot bluestem or the little bluestem and might eventually crowd them out. But for the moment, they're healthy and holding their own. There's even a big patch of yellow Indiangrass that I hadn't seen before. We've never mowed this pasture. When we bought it, seven years ago, it was the home of a pair of burros, who had eaten every scrap of grass down to the root. We could never have guessed it would make this kind of a comeback, especially given the droughts of 2003-2006. But we've already had something like 40" of rain this year (it's hard to tell, exactly, because the rain gauge only holds 6", and a couple of times during the July rains, it overflowed). I think we'll have to mow it now, though, or we'll have a fire hazard when the grass freezes back and dries out.
But in the meantime, I'm enjoying morning walks with the dogs. It's been foggy the past several mornings, and as we wade through the sea of constantly moving grasses, the only sounds are the cheerful chirps of the mockingbirds and the long calls of the mourning doves. A lovely way to start the day.
Reading note. See how nature - trees, flowers, grass - grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence...we need silence to be able to touch souls.--Mother Teresa