Cracker Barrel: E-I-E-I-O
A recent search for bales of unspoiled straw took me to a small farm a few miles south of Brainerd, on the road to Pierz.
Nearing the place, I was struck by the serenity of the day and the beauty of the season. A late afternoon scatter of dumpling clouds floated in a sky of pale blue, migrating ducks and geese arrowed about from pond to pond, and through the open window of the truck came the springtime symphony of peeping frogs and courting red-winged blackbirds.
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