Jakob planted his wheat field in strips, one column at a time from west to east. Five columns, a week's work each. By the fifth week the whole field was golden. Then the hail came in off the mountains, driving eastward. The two rightmost columns — the ones most exposed to the storm front, the last strips he'd planted and the least established — were beaten flat to the ground. The three western columns, sheltered by the old stone wall, survived untouched. He replanted what the sky had taken.