I had what I suppose you could call a 21st century relationship with Prairie Weather. She was one of those people you felt like you knew well but never actually met — except on the Internet.
Prairie Weather insisted on anonymity when she wrote, hence the nom de plummage, which I always thought was a wonderfully visceral representation of who she was: A women who had traveled the world, taught at great universities and was an accomplished painter, but cherished living alone on the plains of Central Texas about midway between Austin and San Antonio.
With unashamedly progressive views, Prairie Weather never pulled her punches when writing about the issues that concerned her. These included the dumbing down of American democracy, disintegration of traditional conservative values, the Supreme Court, women's issues, Texas politics and the coming of Donald Trump.
My dear friend Dr. Clarrisa Pinkola Estés is one of the few people I know who actually met Prairie Weather, and described her as:
"A tall, graceful woman with long silver hair, and a heart of gold. She had a clear vision of 'how it oughta be' and how it was 'not yet.' She was a steady voice in the cross winds."
Prairie Weather's last column, headlined "Yes, He Is A Fascist," was published on July 2.
We had not heard from Prairie Weather for a couple of months, so I put on my investigative hat and went looking for her. After working through a few layers of rural Texas bureaucracy, I learned that she had passed on September 10.
Prairie Weather was a proud 78 years old.