Sunlight stretched across the Nebraska miles, burning fiery pink-gold through a bank of clouds on the horizon. It was almost sunset, and the land spread out, an expanse of never-ending cornfields broken only by the rising silhouette of a windmill or grain silo.

-Becca Fitzpatrick

Select a background
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image

More quotes by Becca Fitzpatrick