Morning Thanks--Royalty on the prairie

If Big Blue Stem is the grass that was the West, the Purple Prairie Cone is the flower. Hardy?--no kidding. They make raw-boned, ratchet-faced pioneers look paltry. Freezing winters and blazing summers are just a few more afternoons on the calendar, and they flower for weeks. They're big and bold and beautiful; and despite the bad press of fly-over country, they love it here.

Anything that blossoms out here in the wilds isn't going to have the Sunday-shine of greenhouse stock. Just won't. What lights up prairie out here steps out entirely without make-up, but still dresses what's out back in finery, purple finery. 

In our backyard they don't make an appearance until mid-July, but once here, they'll stay for a while, and that's a blessing. This morning's thanks are for the purple royalty of prairie flowers. Right now, out back, I wish we had at least a half-dozen more patches. They're wonderful.