Flint Hills

Heading west from Lawrence to Wichita took us through the incredible Flint Hills of Kansas.  It was so open, and I felt that we were far from civilization.  Quiet and alone.  Bogey, we weren't in Illinois anymore.  (No, the dog did not accompany us on the trek.)  The topography seemed only mildly different than that of Central Illinois, and so, it took some time of looking and thinking before it finally dawned on me -- no crops!  No corn nor beans.  No farms, no silos, no small grain-elevator towns.  No forests.  No real groves, even.  I could not capture adequately with my camera the feeling of immense space, but I'll share with you my lame attempts .  .  .

 

Apparently, it's so windy that it becomes too dry for forrests or farms.

 

And so, there are sparse cattle ranches. 

Cattle-crossings are supposed to be something rather

 interesting to witness, but we didn't have that opportunity.

 

Rather peaceful.