Glory of the Plains

My daughter, an introvert, has chosen to live her life on the plains of South Dakota with her husband, children and many pugs. Their home is on a ranch that is twenty miles from the nearest town, with no public transportation, a five mile dirt road that leads into the ranch, and no school bus. She loves the silence, the wildlife, the privacy, the vastness of the skies. What can I say? Intergenerational change and migration can be profound. I live in Boulder, a moderate sized city with plenty to do, right next to the Rocky Mountains. My parents lived in a fancy area of Manhattan, and actually used to brag about their zip code. No kidding. I’ve never heard of anyone else who could express superiority in that particular way. Sometimes I imagine that some of my grandchildren could migrate back to the big city or live in remote caves, if we continue the trend of radical intergenerational change. Or maybe some people will just stay put.

On one visit to South Dakota, I decided to write a song about the Great Plains. In doing I was trying to channel and express my daughter’s love of her chosen homeland. I could see the glory in this great stretch of country, our inland sea. The fact that many male pheasants would rise out of the grasses and fly for a while was riveting. They are as vivid and dramatic as tropical birds in warm climates. Their colors are startling against the tan grasses before the spring rains have brought them into greenness. There is a timeless quality to the vastness of the skies and land. You can find “Time Stands Still in South Dakota” on my album, “Lay My Burden Down”.

Time Stands Still In South Dakota