Over all the mountaintops is peace,
In all the treetops, scarcely a breath;
The little birds in the forest are silent.
Wait then; you, too, will have peace.
~ Goethe
A person is forced inward by the spareness of what is outward and visible in all this land and sky. The beauty of the Plains is like that of an icon -- what seems stern and almost empty is merely open, a door into simple and holy state.