"I
wish that you could be out here in the country with me before the greenness of
spring gives way to the parched brown of summer. Except for tiny purple blossoms at the top
our alfalfa was a sea of knee-deep greenness.
As a backdrop could be seen the green hedgerow. To the far left as the team--Bess &
Sorrel--with me trailing on the mower behind made way to the South, the grass
of the meadow gave the illusion of being a smooth, green carpet. The abundance of rainfall this spring has
done it."
--Letter from my father, Bloomington, Kans., to
my mother, Winfield, Kans., May 27, 1947.
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