"We can't grow anything longer than two years, before the land goes dead."

Now I watch the land go by in a blur of white.

After he died in 1958, the land went to his family.

She started off again more slowly, trying to remember how the land went on this side of the island.

You know how much our land is going to be worth?

The land went bad first, then the stock, and finally my family.

They take a good six or seven years to become productive, but the land won't go to waste.

Or they would if the land was still going to be here.

His dream was to travel to the ends of the world, to see how far the land would go.

The lands I hold in my own right will go to her.