by Rachel L. Miller

The Kansas prairie as seen from Coronado Heights. RTM Photo/Rachel L. Miller

There's just something about Kansas that makes me want to trade in my black platform city-girl shoes for a pair of well-tanned cowboy boots. There's just something in the simplicity of the scenery and in the sincere smiles of Kansans that make me want to pack up my belongings and head west.

Now, I never would have believed that a city slicker (more accurately, a Detroit suburb slicker) like myself would have thought that just a week ago that I would actually entertain this idea of relocation. But then again, I never pictured myself as the type of person who would be riding across a prairie cattle pasture on the back of a gentle horse named Sunshine. I never thought I'd be salivating over dinner plate-size belt buckles and more importantly, over the men who wore them.

So, after discovering the beauty of this Midwestern state firsthand, I think I'll have to do the one thing I truly loathe: admit I was wrong. I was mistaken in having underestimated Kansas, in having the preconceived notion that it was nothing but flat land covered with farms. Sure, I know I was extremely naïve to think so little of Kansas in the first place, but I'd be lying if I said that the majority of Americans didn't hold the same opinion. So how was I proven wrong?

Let me show you.

The first impression one gets while traveling by plane is the initial view of the land from thousands of feet in the air. And let me tell you that my experience was no different - through the wispy white clouds on the plane's descent I saw a lot of green and a lot of farms. From this vantage point, I didn't see anything of much importance, which worried me, especially since I wanted to be completely wrong about Kansas. But once I had both feet on the ground and started exploring, everything was different.

For example, I had no idea that the Flint Hills area in east-central Kansas even existed, much less how breathtakingly beautiful it is. I was literally stunned when I first saw the rolling landscape of bright emerald green prairie grass, waving gently to me in a manner that reminded me of how an elderly woman would kindly greet her grandchild from afar.