The trail led him out of the valley of the Brazos into a landscape of new grass colorless as ash under the tearing clouds with a half-moon breaking through and the incessant, sulky noise of draining water. On his left side a low escarpment sat in black shadows thick as a pool of tar. The world smelled of earth and wet grass. The moon washed the landscape with an intense light. The clear plains air made it seem as if it were light that came out of the landscape itself. A great yellow star hung in the northeast and it turned on a sparkling axle over a world of moonlight and grass and a northern
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