Happy Memorial Day weekend. (And for those of us in Indy, Happy Race Day!) I've got a very long six sentences this week. Just some description from my historical western, Nobody's Bride. This comes when the heroine, Maddy, realizes her time on the Chisholm Trail with the hero, William, is coming to an end, never to be repeated:
She loved the open air and the smells of clean wind, sunbaked grasses, and stirring cattle. She loved watching the wildflowers change with the season and seeing the bees bumble from one to the other, gathering nectar. She loved the dip and sway of the wagon, the broad backs of the oxen pulling in tandem, and the dusty score across the prairie that marked where ten thousand cattle had trod already this summer, and twenty thousand more would tread before winter came. She even loved the thick choking dust, the mud of the river crossings, and the sound of crickets and grasshoppers sawing away at their instruments late into the night.
But most of all, she loved to look over and see William riding point, sitting so naturally in the saddle that he looked like a part of Arion, and they weren't horse and rider any more, but some mythical beast that combined the two, like something out of a storybook. She loved his holler and the sweep of his arm that set them moving in the morning, and its reverse that brought them to a halt at night.
As always, you can find more great snippets here.