last-day-of-school

Updated: May 21, 2025

Nor waving yellow wheat, nor purple alfalfa bloom, nor ramparts of dark green corn on well-tilled land can hold for me one-half the beauty of the windswept springtime prairie. No sweet odor of new-ploughed ground can rival the fragrance of the wild grasses in their waving seas of verdure. We were coming home from Red Range late one April day, where we had gone to a last-day-of-school affair.

Margaret Hill McCarter - The Price of the Prairie: A Story of Kansas