After dinner, Sarah drew pictures to send home to Maine. She began a charcoal drawing of fields, rolling like the sea rolled. She drew a sheep whose ears were too big. And she drew a windmill.
"Windmill was my first word," said Caleb. "Papa told me so."
"Mine was flower," I said. "What was yours, Sarah?"
"Dune," said Sarah.
"Dune?" Caleb looked up.
"In Maine," said Sarah, "there are rock cliffs that rise up at the edge of the sea. And there are hills covered with pine and spruce trees, green with needles. But William and I found a sand dune all our own. It was soft and sparkling with bits of mica, and when we were little woe would slide down the dune into the water."
Sarah, Plain and Tall, P33-34
Patricia MacLachlan
ISBN 978-0-06-440205-7
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