Lily chattered away, hardly taking a breath. She made dozens of guesses about where we were going, as if it was a game. Mayflower said “No” as every new question came up. Eventually, Lily realized she was not going to find out, so she turned her attention to the passing scenery.

We left Dallas behind us and rode out into the countryside. Manuel, Mayflower’s driver, kept the car at a slow and steady pace. I sensed we were going south. Growing up in Donegal, I’d become quite good at guessing directions by the position of the sun. It was another skill of mine that convinced Ma I was a witch.

The landscape was different from what I had seen that first day I came to Dallas. Now, green grasses covered the land, there were more trees than I remembered and fields were filled with crops almost ready for harvesting. A field in the distance caught my eye. Small, white, fluffy clouds hovered in the air just above the ground.

“Please stop the car, Manuel,” I said.

I got out and walked to the edge of the road, shading my eyes with my hand. I’d never seen the likes of it. Was it a mirage, I wondered, like the visions I’d read about that appeared in the desert?

“It’s just a cotton field, darlin’.” Mayflower’s voice drifted over my shoulder. “As common in Texas as ticks on a coon dog. You should see them out west of here—fields and fields of them stretching on forever. They sure do make a lovely sight, don’t they? If you were up close, you’d see those are white flowers on the plants. We call them bolls. In another day or two they’ll turn pink, and the field will look as if it’s lit by sunset.”

Back in the car, Mayflower decided to give me an education on the vegetation I was seeing.

“Them tall, green stalks over there,” she said, “they’re maize. It’s a kind of corn the Mexicans brought here. And them trees, they’re pecan trees.”

I looked over at rows and rows of leafy trees bending toward each other to make an arch.

“Too bad y’all got here too late in the year to see the bluebonnets. It’s like nature threw a blue carpet all over the state. The sight of them has made grown men cry. So beautiful. God surely has blessed Texas!”

Again, I heard the same pride in Mayflower’s voice as I’d heard when she showed me around Dallas. This woman truly loved Texas.

I put down my head and closed my eyes. I was now well and truly in a strange and fascinating land. I’d never heard of cotton plants or maize stalks or pecan trees. And these were only the things I’d seen so far. What else was out there across the state of Texas—a state so vast that Ireland would fit into it eight times over?