Hermosa, South DakotaWindbreak House
I wake this morning, in the home of Linda Hasselstrom, to the sound of prairie ocean wind slapping against the house, waves of rustling grass decorated with the songs of blackbirds and one lone meadowlark. Yesterday we had a full day of interviewing and visiting; we were talking so much last night we couldn't get to bed.
I think of Linda, still asleep downstairs in her nest of books, and how she revealed her life and work to me in a flash of trust, letting me turn corners and snake open closed doors. Linda is firm in her intentions, rooted five feet deep in this land. If she ever chooses to leave her Dakota windbreak we will all hear the great piano string twang of roots rending the earth for miles and miles. Everyone will know she is gone.
I will depart for Wyoming this morning to visit with Georgie
Sicking and Echo Roy Klaproth. Echo has invited me to join her family
for branding day. 
