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

dropped. Every week, another pasture browned. Every week, another farmer drove to town with his face set in a way that told everyone not to ask.

At the Whitaker place, the exposed south pasture suffered like everyone else’s. Grass thinned. The ground cracked. The pond shrank until the muddy banks showed rings like an old bathtub.

But the north pasture continue reading …