“The prairie I grew up on teaches you to notice, to pay attention. The yolk of the sun as it slides across the dome of the sky streaking the world orange and indigo. The swish of grass in afternoon breeze. The screech of a grackle. During the Golden hour on the prairie, the North Dakota palette reveals the subtle differences between ochre, umber, and sienna.” HorizonPrairieNorth DakotaGolden HourPastoralSky Colors Book:Boys and Oil: Growing Up Gay in a Fractured Land Source: Boys and Oil: Growing Up Gay in a Fractured Land
“I mentioned how I had lived in the oil boom. I described the buttes of the badlands. The smell of the sage. The yolk-yellow breasts of the sage grass. How if you sat long enough, waited for the golden hour, then the entire sweep of the badlands surged into a riot of reds and purples and golds. I told him how there were ponderosa pines tucked into the southwestern pocket of North Dakota, but that they looked shrimpy compared to the ones here, in the rain-forest of the Olympics.” HorizonPrairieNorth DakotaPastoralButteSky ColorsPonderosa Pines Book:Boys and Oil: Growing Up Gay in a Fractured Land Source: Boys and Oil: Growing Up Gay in a Fractured Land