Morphing into prairie pastel

It takes more than lightening bolts and thunder cracks to fade an outsider's bright blue and yellow aura to muted prairie hues. It takes up to 3 frisky fawns frolicking at daybreak under a watchful mother's eye to channel the tart-to-sweet green glow of Idaho fescue, squirrel tail and blue bunch wheat grass; and perhaps a couple of glimpses into the cavernous mouth of a determined baby swallow.

Don't be impatient if it requires a double rainbow trellis stretched over barn and hillside; not a surprise if you must witness mirrored drops of yesterday's rain bulging in the shimmering light of daybreak to transfer halcyon gold radiance like prairie gumweed and goldenrod. Sometimes it takes the infusion of a great horned owl's icy stare from the perch in his clerestory.

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It's almost guaranteed that a blush pink glow can only be osmosed by finding prairie smoke at both ends of its season, on a single plant, impossible to decide if waxing or waning is more beautiful. That and an encounter with a clumsy yearling black bear foraging for wild currant on a nearby hillside, and for a moment staring back. 

And one may need to spy red skivvies and such hanging over a barbed wire fence near the tent after 4 days of downpour and soggy everything to reflect azureous blue glimmer, a small placeholder of hope in the relenting sky.