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Welcome to Flyover Country, the vast and delicious expanse between the coasts. Here is where I work and travel, writing about the ordinary, knowing that it is really extraordinary. Nonstop flights from New York to Los Angeles constantly fly over us:

Gene R. Stark Meets With Fans At Book Launch EventSilver wings and contrails paint names
Across our sky,
They fly from coast to coast.
Quick gaze at our patchwork land
Once white and black, then green and blue
Glide through, enroute.
Little glance from laptop light
To silent scenes below
They come and in a cutting shard they go.
Yet our fathers left us here
To work the space and
Pump the bounty to the coasts,
And keep the secrets of the land.
We stand, look up, wonder where they go,
Thank God they mostly do.
Excerpt from Flyover Seasons
(North Star Press 2012)
Latest Posts

Grooming the Grassland-September 3, 2017

Grooming the Grassland-September 3, 2017

Before settlement of our area the grasslands were preserved by fire and the countless hooves of the bison.  Now our remnant prairies are pressured by encroaching woody plants such as box elder, green ash, and Chinese elm. We spent a … Continue reading

Gifts from the Prairie-August 28, 2017

Gifts from the Prairie-August 28, 2017

Whether it is a bouquet selected and arranged by grandkids or a perfect stand of big bluestem grass shimmering in the last sunlight of the day, it gift to be savored.

No Winter, No Summer-August 20, 2017

No Winter, No Summer-August 20, 2017

My Dad used to say:  “No winter, not summer.”  By that he implied that after a mild winter (which by Minnesota standards meant less than 4 feet of ice on the lakes and not too many days of 20 degrees … Continue reading

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