CALIFORNIA | LOCAL
February 29, 2008 |
Sigfried Carrle angled his farmer's hat into a forceful wind roaring across the Antelope Valley. He did not blink, even when a fly bounced off his craggy cheek. Dust curdled the air and shrouded the sun, and stalks of wheat trembled like the strings of a harp. The sign at Carrle's farm stand on the gravel shoulder of California 138, in the town of Neenach, read: "Last Chance Peaches. " The landscape was so bleak it seemed prudent to ask: Before what? But the produce was fresh and plump and grown in Carrle's backyard.