When my days are filled with tight corners, narrow hallways, tall buildings, and tiny glimpses of sky, I need literature to offer me a horizon.
I remembered Willa Cather's My Antonia did that for me a while back, so I picked up her O Pioneers! today. The first sentence won me over.
"One January day, thirty years ago, the little town of Hanover, anchored on a windy Nebraska tableland, was trying not to be blown away."
That's what I need. Something that's mostly wind and field and sky.
I want to feel the danger of being blown away.