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They Doubted His Pine Trees Until Nineteen Eighty Eight Proved Him Right

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the wire with no shelter anywhere. He knelt beside the smallest calf, his glove on its frozen hide, and something inside him settled into decision.

He would plant windbreaks. Not one row, not two. A living wall. Pines, cedars, and a few hardy cottonwoods in strategic strips across the north pasture, leaving alleys of grass between them. Trees to stop continue reading …

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