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"...He'd fiddle high and held fiddle low - he'd fiddle the gut right off his bow." She went on in her low, deliberately accented voice to tell him that his grandfather could fiddle the squeak of a gopher, lost in wind whispering through prairie grass; crows calling; an anvil on a winter day; an ant pile broken open and the ants all scurrying round. She'd heard him fiddle jack rabbits bouncing off, a goshawk drifting high with a field mouse in its claws, a flock of geese and all their necks, a barn with its loft full of hay. "He fiddled to make folks laugh," the old woman said., "and he fiddled to make them cry."
W. O. Mitchell,Who Has Seen the Wind, Macmillan of Canada, Toronto, 1947, p.189
PLACE: Saskatchewan Prairies
TIME: 20th century
The wind could be heard in a more persisent song now, and out along the road separating the town from the prairie it fluted gently along the wires that ran down the highway.
W. O. Mitchell,Who Has Seen the Wind, Macmillan of Canada, Toronto, 1947, p.191
PLACE: Saskatchewan Prairies
TIME: 20th century
...the wind washing through the prairie grasses high around him.
W. O. Mitchell.,Who Has Seen the Wind, Macmillan of Canada, Toronto, 1947, p.193
PLACE: Saskatchewan Prairies
TIME: 20th century
Steadily sibilant the wind washed through the dry grasses all around, bending them, laying them low, their millions yearning all together.
...the wind sang a higher, shriller song; it whined and thinned along the pulsing wires...
W. O. Mitchell,Who Has Seen the Wind, Macmillan of Canada, Toronto, 1947, p.198
PLACE: Saskatchewan Prairies
TIME: 20th century
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