I live in the west. Out
here there is a very distinctive plant that is unique to the western parts of
North America. It is sage brush. It’s so common out here that people seldom
even acknowledge it. I’d say it’s everywhere but that’s not true. You won’t
find it in the high alpine climates or the rain forests of the Northwest but it
is in every western state. It has a pungent odor that is as present as the
smell of pine on a hot day. I find I love how it covers the vast expanses of
open plains often no higher than the mid shin of a man. Other times you’ll find
it to be quite tall, almost tree like. It makes for a great camp fire, though
it does burn rapidly as the smoky skies of this past summer can attest. Our western
wild fires are more often range fires than forest fires and sage brush is a
primary fuel.
I
know that when people see the vast expanses of sage brush on the plains and
mountains of the west they more often than not equate the land to a worthless
pile of weeds (why else would there be so many bombs tested in Nevada?) but I
consider it a sign of unfettered beauty open to so much discovery. I’m not
going to lie and say I don’t prefer the verdancy of a beautiful forest, but no
one from the west who really loves the west can deny the power the silvery sage
has over them. The west could be a true wasteland if it wasn’t for that
abundance of pungent sage holding the vast open plains and mountains together
in its lining of silver. I am ever grateful to sage brush.
No comments:
Post a Comment