Then he came toward Pearl, over the bare, brown earth, running low.
Nothing but the brown earth sides and the brown earth bottom.
On either side of him lay the brown earth, silently nurturing the implanted seed.
But they always came in saying that there was nothing but brown earth to be seen.
The pastures and wheat fields are a vivid green, contrasting beautifully with the cool, brown earth of the ploughed land.
There is no sorrow, only a little pressure through the brown earth.
He looked out across a wide circle of sward, dotted with hummocks of brown earth.
There was nothing now but the brown earth under the white thorn.
Upon the plateau I saw my rusty old disk harrow–a legacy from Milt–standing on the brown earth.
At times an arrow of sunlight breaks through the shields of clouds, and kisses the brown earth with a quivering spot of light.