Pull of Harvest
Today I saw a swather laying down a heavy windrow of barley and felt the old pull of harvest. Memories of dust hanging in windless air, the smell of chaff and b...
Today I saw a swather laying down a heavy windrow of barley and felt the old pull of harvest. Memories of dust hanging in windless air, the smell of chaff and b...
There is a place between day and night, or at least equidistant to both day and night, that invites apprehending. This morning, or last night (either time is ri...