This weekend, I drove south to the Black Hills for the annual South Dakota Festival of the Book.
We are enjoying an indulgently beautiful fall, the weather somehow luxuriously warm and cool at the same time. All the moisture we’ve had this summer means the colors aren’t as brilliant as in drier years, but no one seems to mind. Rolling through the open prairie toward the mountains, windows down, …
This item is available in full to subscribers.
To continue reading, you will need to either log in to your subscriber account, below, or purchase a new subscription.
Please log in to continue |