1 He had a delicate skin, easily roughened by sun and wind.
2 After the sun sank, a cold wind sprang up and moaned over the prairie.
3 The sun had set when we reached our garden and went down the draw toward the house.
4 They were big and warm and full of light, like the sun shining on brown pools in the wood.
5 As the sun sank there came a sudden coolness and the strong smell of earth and drying grass.
6 I was something that lay under the sun and felt it, like the pumpkins, and I did not want to be anything more.
7 Perhaps we feel like that when we die and become a part of something entire, whether it is sun and air, or goodness and knowledge.
8 The cornfields got back a little of their colour under the dazzling light, and stood the palest possible gold in the sun and snow.
9 One afternoon Antonia and her father came over to our house to get buttermilk, and lingered, as they usually did, until the sun was low.
10 At a distance, on his wagon, he looked like an old man; his hair and beard were of such a pale flaxen colour that they seemed white in the sun.
11 The sun shone into my bath-water through the west half-window, and a big Maltese cat came up and rubbed himself against the tub, watching me curiously.
12 Tony was barefooted, and she shivered in her cotton dress and was comfortable only when we were tucked down on the baked earth, in the full blaze of the sun.
13 At last I saw a dark spot moving on the west hill, beside the half-buried cornfield, where the sky was taking on a coppery flush from the sun that did not quite break through.
14 We had been silent a long time, and the edge of the sun sank nearer and nearer the prairie floor, when we saw a figure moving on the edge of the upland, a gun over his shoulder.
15 When the bank on the other side of the draw began to throw a narrow shelf of shadow, we knew we ought to be starting homeward; the chill came on quickly when the sun got low, and Antonia's dress was thin.
16 Whenever one looked at this slope against the setting sun, the circle showed like a pattern in the grass; and this morning, when the first light spray of snow lay over it, it came out with wonderful distinctness, like strokes of Chinese white on canvas.
17 The light air about me told me that the world ended here: only the ground and sun and sky were left, and if one went a little farther there would be only sun and sky, and one would float off into them, like the tawny hawks which sailed over our heads making slow shadows on the grass.
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