As I stood near rattlesnake master, a plant of the prairie, bison thundered across grasses with a great sweep of fire raging behind them. Bison and fire, they once kept the great Southeast Prairie healthy. Of course I imagined the bison and fire.
I did not imagine the rattlesnake master. It was real, a reminder of all that we've lost. Once, however, that might have been the scene where I stood, its location a secret.
If you know where to go, you can find remnants of the great prairie that once spread across the Southeast. Think of them as native grasslands. My interest in remnants of the Southeast's great, but forgotten, grassland began with an artist.
Landscape artist Philip Juras and I met late one afternoon, early evening is more like it, to discuss a project, exploring remnants of native grasslands. Philip's remarkable work presents native habitats to us in a way that's beyond beautiful. It's gloriously important.
When you see Philip's work it startles, then mesmerizes you. In his own words his paintings express his "desire to both explore and understand the patterns of the natural world." Philip merits further description.
From his website He's had solo exhibits at the Chicago Botanic Garden and Illinois State Museum; the Telfair, Morris, and Marietta-Cobb museums in Georgia; and the Biblioteca Virgilio Barco in Bogotá, Colombia. He has published three books in conjunction with his exhibits, one of which won a Georgia Writer of the Year award. His work has been profile.