In Open Spaces: Belle Fourche
I approached Belle Fourche, where wisps of chimney smoke fought upward through the downpour. The town looked scrubbed, the dry wood buildings sparkling with water, every vehicle free of dust, and dogs romping through the streets, their hair slicked down against their hides. The people outside either held something over their heads or let the water run from the brims of their hats, like the stream from a pump. I didn’t see any umbrellas. Nobody’d had reason to own an umbrella for some time. (281)
Rowland, Russell. In Open Spaces. New York: Harper Perennial, 2002.