On feeling parched in Minnesota.
On Sunflowers, and Hope, in Times of Drought
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On feeling parched in Minnesota.
Willa Cather & the mesa outside Taos, New Mexico—where “the desert is everything and nothing. God without men.”
Willa Cather & the Pavelka Farmstead—where, writes Christine Pivovar, “I could imagine myself as one of Ántonia’s daughters, kneading the dough for kolaches.”
Willa Cather & Glacier Creek Preserve—where the grass “reflects the fire of a Great Plains sunset.”
Willa Cather & the Old Burying Ground of Jaffrey, New Hampshire—where she was, finally, “dissolved into something complete and great.”
Willa Cather & the Fine Arts Building—a respite from the “blur of smoke and wind and noise” in the capital of the Middle Empire.