Grace Campbell 
Fresh Wind Blowing 

The valley of the Qu’Appelle sweeps in great swinging curves across the western plains. Midway from its rise to its junction with the Assiniboine, the river bends sharply back on itself, and a headland juts out from its southern bank. Trees, scrub-oak and white birch and choke-cherry, hedge in the little plateau. From here, one may look far up the valley to the west, and down the valley to the east, and along the sharp-edged, high northern rim of it, and be oneself securely hid from view.

Here, in times past, Indian scouts watched for buffalo herds or for enemy horsemen. From here, the early settlers surveyed the land, appraising it. Here, on a bright September afternoon, Kirk and Kari Andreson sat their piebald ponies and gazed out over the sun-drenched valley.