When the wind blew, it looked like waves upon the sea. There's little to catch your attention, save the endless steady horizon; the only thing there to keep your mind focused in a sea of golden grass. What I was traveling through was the Great Prairie of the United States. Settlers came to these parts, ranched, and left with the rise and fall of cattle prices. All that is left are a few ramshackle homes and rusted fences, slowly melting into the sea of grass.