What does "community" mean on the prairie? In this issue, we offer a mosaic of answers gleaned from the residents of one small town.
In a community writing workshop, Rootstalk's Editor discovered a small town's true diversity.
A "rubber band community" is one that, no matter how far away you go, you always want to come back. This retired teacher explains.
There was a time for this retired farmer when Saturday night in his small prairie town was a hot car and someone to race.
A farm is many things: a business, a home, a way of life. For this farmer, it was a thing to share with the whole town.
A costume, a pillow case, a couple of friends, and a whole town to roam in: that was Halloween for this coffee shop owner.
It's a long way from Iraq's battlefields to running a small town barbershop. But because of a little boy's smile, maybe not so far at that.
What's the best way to find out how "community" is defined where you live? Ask the local kids to make a mural.
Want to know how prairie culture has changed? Consult the obituaries in your local paper.
On any given outing on the prairie, you might just turn over an artifact from the country's indigenous past. Or maybe not...
In this issue we're publishing a variation on our "Birds of the Prairie" feature. This time, it's "Mammals of the Prairie."
In Rootstalk's fifth podcast, our audio producers talk with Prof. Brandi Janssen about the complexities of sustainaable agriculture.
How do we reverse the degradation of our prairie home by industrial ag? The residents of Dancing Rabbit Ecovillage think they know.
What does an artist do in a prairie town that doesn't have an arts community? Matt and Sarah Kargol's answer: make one.
Musician, journalist, educator with a 40-year career in the arts--our contributor has folded together multiple extraordinary lives.
The poet--an Australian transplant--takes on the autumn's changeable weather and its effect on we who move through it.
During the yearly migration, an astonishing forty-five percent of all North American shorebirds pass through this Kansas marsh.
Blake said we can see the universe in a grain of sand; can we see the prairie expanses of the past in a remnant on an Illinois highway?
Richard Luftig's second appearance on our pages features an imagined road trip, and the solace of endurance in winter.
To depict ecological change in the American landscape, this artist brings together paints, drawing materials and altered photographs.
This contributor, a soil scientist, environmental activist and farmer, reviews a new book offering a vision of rural prairie revival.
In this poet's work the prairie's weathers have an intimate connection to the landscape's history.
This scholar of Native American culture meditates on the meaning of roots, and the challenge to them represented by energy extraction.
This artist has shared her visions of the prairie landscape in almost every issue of our journal. We're fortunate to feature four more.
This issue features two more of our regular contributor's incomparable wildlife portraits.
This Minnesota photographer introduced our readers to his work in Vol. IV, #2. He contributed two more images of wildlife to this issue.
It's clear this image by our former Associate Editor is a Midwestern graveyard: a cornfield in the background, an endless blue sky above.
This photographer is providing her second backdrop for our table of contents: staghorn sumac at Neal Smith National Wildlife Preserve.
This first-time contributor provided some beautiful--and beautifully appropriate--images for the essay written by his friend, Alicia DeHaan.
This photographer--orginally from Hawaii--found inspiration in the autumn prairie fields.