Dan's Writings
Dan O'Brien Remembers Jim Harrison
I spent all of Easter Day on an ATV to bring buffalo in from the east side of the Cheyenne River where they had spent the winter. It was a long day but not terribly strenuous. How tiring can it be to be miles from any other human being, in a piece of the Great Plains that could serve as a time machine, complete with antelope, deer, buffalo, migrating sand hill cranes, and waves of other birds heading north to begin the world over again?
Ghost
The first time the peregrine falcon shot past the window I didn’t move a muscle. It could have been my imagination. Maybe my eyes were crossing from boredom.
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A Tip of the Hat to the Spirit of America
I’m sitting in a room on the ground-level of a brownstone in Brooklyn. It is night and I’m wondering how I got here. The room is filled with books manuscripts, and galley proofs that are staked on every horizontal surface. It is the home of my long-time friend and literary agent. My body is surrounded by perhaps the greatest city in the world. But my heart is on the Great Plains.
Scrooge on the High Plains
It is Christmastime and, once again, I am driving from South Dakota to Texas. I am not moving in a straight line. I am wondering, as I have done almost every Christmas for the last forty years. By December, most of the autumn work is done on the ranch, the ponds are frozen in South Dakota, and I have the chance to follow the ducks south.
Hearing the Rattle
There was some disturbing news on our local radio station this morning. A couple herpetologists were on NPR explaining that some rattlesnakes in our area seem to be losing their ability to rattle.
A Case for the Limping Metaphor
The trip back from a grazing seminar took me right through the center of the Black Hills. Jill was in the seat beside me, but we didn’t talk much.
Bluebird Days
My Sibley’s Field Guide to the Blue Bird says that there are three kinds of bluebirds in North America: Eastern, Western, and Mountain. The first bluebird that I remember seeing had to have been an eastern.
The Case For Selling Bison Meat
The Great Plains are enormous – about 32 million acres – but they are not limitless.
Seven Mile Point
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Almost fifty years ago I was a freshman at Michigan Technological University. I did not go to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan for academic reasons – not interested in philosophy, mathematics, or engineering like almost everyone else.
Eighteen Years
We are having a wonderful autumn on the Northern Great Plains. The temperature has dipped below freezing only a couple nights and the days have been balmy with light southerly winds.
The Tragedy of Phiney Flat
The north end of our ranch is part of a many thousand acre, level piece of ground known as Phiney Flat. By the county soil maps I know that the Flat is a fertile place for this part of the world and, in the places where the native, perennial grass still grows, it does extremely well.
One More Afternoon Of Love
There is a tiny adobe cabin nestled in the sand dunes of far eastern New Mexico. No real road leads to it, just two faint tracks among the mesquite, love grass, blue stem, and cholla cactus.