On a bitter October morning in 1982, Chuck Zangger stood in his field near North Loup, staring at the brittle, ruined stalks of corn. The early frost had stolen the popcorn grower’s harvest — 600 acres of kernels that would never pop.

He knelt, scooping a handful of hard, lifeless seeds into his palm, rubbing them between his fingers as the wind whistled through the empty husks. Years of work, gone overnight.

The tyranny of the sun is only so without shade; on a hot Omaha day, wood chip paths wound under well-maintained tree-cover. Almost out of sight, birds somersaulted in tandem in their ever-dance under and above the outstretched branches holding back the heat – and if the harshness of the day still attempted to join the earth, it had to pass the awning of leaves where it was then filtered into pleasant sunbeams.

CHADRON — The stories at the Olde Main Street Inn are as plentiful as the pine trees on the nearby rocky ridges.

Like the time actor Woody Harrelson came by but couldn’t get a room because the three-story bed-and-breakfast was full.

At its heart, pizza is deceptively simple. Made from just a few humble ingredients – baked dough, tangy sauce, melted cheese and maybe a few toppings – it might seem like a perfect candidate for the kind of mass-produced standardization that defines many global food chains, where predictable menus reign supreme.