Prairie days

“Where I was born, there was a sky
so big, there was no end of it.
The summer mornings were cool,
and the sun rose orange.”

And thus begins the story of a life on the prairie, long ago, idyllic really, with the scent of wild roses and of earth and hyssop, small towns “with names we loved,” with prairie birds, and horses to ride, and kick the can.

Lovely, poetic recollection of a childhood. With lovely illustrations made with hand-stamped paper and tissue papers and origami.