10th Dubois Grouse Days Festival
April 27 & 28 2012 Photo By Randy Bjerke 2011
April 27 & 28 2012 Photo By Randy Bjerke 2011
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Sage Meditation
Crooked Creek west of Dubois, Idaho.
SAGE MEDITATION
By Kent L. Christopher
By Kent L. Christopher
Nestled in Eastern Idaho is the
expansive sagebrush plain that surrounds the upper Snake River. A
sinuous artery flows through vast, volcanic gardens. The vista is like
a grand amphitheater of life ringed by bleachers of magnificent
mountains. Man made use of rich soils and water to construct a strong
agricultural base, but a powerful, primeval plan where Sage Grouse are
icons of virile vigor lingers in our modern midst. An anatomy of the
magical marvel of sage will here not be studied with solicitude. Its
heart is seen and felt from hundreds of miles around. A monolithic
rhyolite dome named Big Butte thrusts up from the chest. Golden Eagles
and falcons are ribs which protect this vital pump around its front and
sides. A backbone below and unseen seems unbreakable. On its summit,
conifer hairs make habitat for deer, porcupines, and Clark's
Nutcrackers on a regal island above the plain. A rage of hang gliders
launch into upward currents of air and sometimes disappear to land who
knows where. Like kidneys, smaller versions called Twin Buttes rise up
northeast of the heart. All around in Spring sage, booming grouse
penetrate dawn's light. But fire burning hot in summer brought fear of
cheat grass desolation, invaders like those victorious downriver. The
guts of our sage system are found in three valleys. They run parallel
for a hundred miles and are separated by spectacular, abrupt ranges of
block faulted mountains. Grouse move up Birch Creek, Little Lost, and
Big Lost conduits, too. Succulent forbs in subalpine meadows nourish
broods during dry summer. These intestines of dozen mile wide
sagebrush strips nurture the grouse, but like canaries in the miners'
lair poison air makes them disappear. Some remain all year round in
the stomach found at Medicine Lodge and Crooked Creek, there to digest,
an abiding few. Standing atop the fissured, lava rock head provides a
pithy sage perspective. We look North to see the Centennial Range.
Big, beautiful, bold, and unique as only here do the Rocky Mountains
run East - West to frame the North rim of our plain. As we turn
Northeast, Yellowstone land sprawls out grand. Then to East, those
triumphant Teton breasts with hard points to heaven resound. Turn
around and look West at gut walls of mountain ranges called Bitterroot,
Lemhi, Lost River, and Sawtooths. They bite at the mind's eye. To
South and Southwest, opens our broad sage plain bordered on clear,
crystal days by distant mountains to Southeast and South, hundreds of
miles away. Sit and think among the cerebrum's convolutions. May they
make meaningful meditations meander. About the Upper Snake River
Plains, my mind wanders. Timeless sage wisdom is here when we do not
fear, but like passenger pigeons may disappear. Who would suspect sage
structure, the most prevalent part of vast Western prairies could ever
be put in such pensive peril? Peacefully plain it is on the boundless,
pristine plain.
