Our Daily Bread

As a 5-year-old keeping the cows out of my father’s fields, I was awed by the sounds and sights of a North Dakota summer day. Only the occasional mooing of a cow or the whistling of a meadowlark broke the soft stillness. Shimmering heat waves danced across the prairie while a cautious coyote skulked nearby. Hungry hawks circled overhead as snow-white clouds lazily floated in the sky.