NEBRASKA
Author: Lois Olive Gray
Photos: Kay Ellen Gilmour, MD
Photo Website: kaygilmour.smugmug.com
In Omaha's heart, the city beats strong, Where a zoo stands tall, a bustling song. Amazing elephant house, lions' proud roar, Tigers' stripes gleam, red panda adored.
The elusive takin roams the hilly terrain, In mobility scooters, visitors gain. Though hot and bustling, the zoo unfolds, In its huge embrace, stories untold.
National raves for its majestic dome, Where desert's majesty finds its home. And in the awesome aviary, birds take flight, A symphony of colors, a wondrous sight.
At the train station, historic and grand, In Omaha, where tales of the past still stand. The Durham Museum, a treasure to explore, Echoes of cattle, grain, corn and more.
Along the Missouri River, stories unfold, Of a time when commerce and dreams were bold. But now, alas, the station’s days have passed, Yet its legacy lovingly endures, steadfast and vast.
At Ashfall Fossil Beds, where time unwinds, Skeletons of rhinos, a tale that binds.
Idaho Volcano's eruption, a fearsome sight, 12 million years ago, plunged day into night.
Extinction's shadow, with animal anguish deep, Paleontologists delve, their secrets to keep.
On open prairie, their stories we find, Preservation's mission, for humankind's mind.
Enormous bison, lords of the plains, Moving with grace, where the prairie remains. Ponderously they stroll, dignity in each stride, Preserving their heritage, their ancient pride.
Calves, with their frolics, like winds in flight, Dancing around elders, in the golden light. Their coats, light and fleeting, a sign of their age, In the circle of life, they turn another page.
Bald spots on adults, where winter's grip wanes, Molting away heavy coats, shedding old chains. Yet in their eyes, a timeless wisdom does gleam, As they roam the lands, in a timeless dream.
A brick pile, old and high, A historic hotel where spirits fly. A town treasure, solid period pieces stand, Telling tales of a tainted history grand.
Now a B&B with a gracious host fair, Welcoming guests with tender care. Bumps in the night, footsteps in the hall, Whispers of the past, heard by all.
Reading quiet, by the fireplace's glow, Stories of yore, in shadows they flow. Amidst the echoes of bygone days, The haunted hotel stands in silent sway.
In winds of constant, frenzied dance, Nature's whims, a wild romance. Puffs of air, buffeting cars, Swooping birds, beneath the stars.
River waves, with racing clouds, Plower's dust, in fertile shrouds. Nature's ballet, ever free, A symphony of earth and sea.
In the Sandhills of Nebraska, wide and grand, Roaming through grass-covered stable land. Hidden among waves of grass, like an oceanic tide,
To the far horizon, where the lonely road abides.
Treeless and wild, where plows dare not delve, Pronghorns roam, where mankind does not dwell.
No signs of human hand, no place to linger, No stops to gape, just nature's silent singer.
In this New World, an echo rings, An ancient monument, stories sing. Farm trucks and vans, piled above the land, Built with love, sweat, a visionary hands.
With love and sweat, a vision was born, A tourist site greets each morn. Piled high, reaching to the sky, A testament that dreams can fly.
Chimney Rock, a sight so grand, Pioneer's prayers, across the land. Their hopes embraced, their dreams set high, With answered prayers, they reach the sky.
Oxen pull, covered wagons roll, On Oregon Trail, towards their goal. A beacon shines, halfway to go, Relief and joy, like rivers flow.
Boundless spirit, man and beast, Their journey's tale, a glorious feast. Seen for miles, their courage bold, Onward they march, their story told.
In Red Cloud's embrace, where time slows down, Where friendly folk wear a welcoming crown. In a rural expanse of whispering fields, Where the heart of the town, its story yields.
Amidst the historic depot's weathered charm, And the cozy church where souls find calm, Lies Willa's home, a haven of peace, Where worries cease and joys increase.
Broad streets of red bricks weave tales of old, Of pioneers brave, of dreams untold. And in the air, a scent divine, Of tasty food, a culinary sign.
A swank hotel stands tall and proud, Welcoming tourists from the bustling crowd, In Red Cloud's embrace, they find delight, In its stories, its warmth, its gentle light.
In the heart of the plains, where the winds blow free, Lies the legacy of Willa Cather, for all to see.
A novelist, historian, poet, and more, An explorer of souls, to their very core.
With a Pulitzer Prize, her pen held sway, Capturing the essence of the Great Plains day. Early pioneers, their stories she unfurled, A free spirit, she made her own way in the world.
In Red Cloud Town, where her family homes stand, Echoes of her words, across the land.
Willa Cather's spirit forever roams, In the prairie winds, she found her home.
On the prairie's expanse, where tall grasses sway, Rolling hills greet the light of day. Under the open sky, stretching wide and high, Grain skyscrapers reach, touching the sky.
Pioneer buildings, with stories untold, Set-back homes and barns, weathered and bold. Evergreen windbreaks stand against the breeze, As rural churches echo hymns with ease.
In Nebraska's fields, where the prairie winds blow, The Western Meadowlark's sweet melodies flow. A few we did spy, in the fields they'd alight, Yet the Red-Winged Blackbird claimed day and night.
Hundreds in number, in a symphony grand, Their beauty adorned every stretch of the land. With wings of ebony and crimson hue, They painted the skies in a breathtaking view.
Though late for the cranes, the migration's grand show, We ventured to witness where they come and they go.
At the Crane Foundation, we glimpsed their domain, Where they gather in numbers, a majestic crane train.
Nebraska's wonders, in avian flight, From meadowlarks' songs to the blackbirds' delight. In the heart of the plains, where the wild birds fly, We found nature's chorus, soaring high in the sky.
In fields of hoped for plentiful bloom, Worker’s fervor assaults rejected gloom. Picking seeds with calloused hands, Burning weeds off fertile land.
Sawing trees, with forgiving grace, Teaching nature's ancient pace. Conserving tales of ages past, Millennial prairie grasses last.
From the grass, where secrets lie, Birds of melody take to the sky. Their songs so sweet, their feathers bright, A colorful dance in the morning light.
On wires they perch, a raucous band, Chirping and singing, as if unplanned. Yet amidst their joy, sit a silent few, Solitary watchers with a different view.
By the water's edge, they gather 'round, Fishing and hunting without a sound. Soaring above or wading below, In search of treasures hidden low.
By the score, they paint the air, A vibrant display beyond compare. But amidst the crowd, a plain refrain, A simple beauty that's never in vain.
In skies vast and wide, where dreams take flight, Huge marshmallow clouds, billowing in light, Yet beneath, dark threats, low and near, A dance of contrast, both far and near.
Layered hues, from horizon's edge they rise, Nimbus towers, reaching for the skies. Building, growing, in ominous swell, A tale of nature's power, she does tell.
But amidst the gloom, a sunset's embrace, Colors layered, in a fiery grace.
Orange, yellow, grey, paint the scene, A canvas vast, where wonders convene.
Black curtains drawn against the stars' bright gleam, As night descends, in its tranquil stream. Deep navy blues, cradle the moon's glow, In a world where wonders ebb and flow.
And so the journey ends, a tale to remember,
Three friends laughing, hearts as warm as ember,
Amidst the sand hills, a stunning sight to see,
Driving around, bison grazing, wild and free.
Marveling at the myriad of birds, a dance in the sky,
Their wings spread wide as they gracefully fly,
Taking in the history of small towns, stories untold,
Guided by Willa, through streets of old.
Wondering at the hard work of families, steadfast and true,
Tending their fields, under skies of blue,
Eating heartily in local cafes, flavors so divine,
Savoring each moment, like aged wine.
And in the quiet peace, away from the daily grind,
Nebraska's beauty, a treasure to find,
Grateful to the land, and to Kim, a dear friend,
For sharing these delights, until journeys end.
