Book 1 - James Potter and the Hall of Elders' Crossing

himself to the ground. The earth was broken up in clods of rich brown, crumbling amiably under
his Redwing boots. Clete moved a few paces away from the tractor so to escape the chug of diesel
fumes, and took a deep pull of the spring air. It was full of the scent of moist earth laid open, and
the creek swollen with winter run-off, and tender green shoots along its steep banks. His stomach
growled congenially, reminding him of the lunch Rachel was probably cooking right now: pork
chops and sweet potatoes and canned beets. He half thought he could smell her cooking on the
warm breeze, under all the other, earthy scents, but he knew that was impossible. He was half a mile
from the house now, in the middle of the east field. He frowned in contentment, reminded himself
that idleness was the sport of fools, and got on with what he was doing.
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