When the mountain stopped me and asked me to take a picture of it, I had no idea that right across the street something was begging me even more to take its picture.
NO, it took more than a mere field of cotton. You guessed it – farm equipment doing its job.
It looks small and innocent enough from this vantage point. Wait till you get closer!
You can see why the air gets so dusty in the Central Valley. The sky was so immaculate on Saturday because it rained Friday night – our very first rain of the fall.
Don’t be fooled, You wouldn’t want your fingers down there. About this time I had slid down the slight embankment, and was rushing toward the machine faster than it was coming at me. In fact, it was ignoring me all together. HOWEVER…
As I turned from my engaging activity, I jolted to see, not 10 feet away, a white pick-up with a stern looking man sitting inside staring at me, just waiting. That was a little eerie, I have to admit, but I greeted him with a friendly apology asking if he minded if I took pictures. He didn’t, but reminded me not to get my fingers or feet near the cotton mower. HELLO – like even a 2 year old would back away from a moving grinder like that! But the slight reprimand was a small price to pay for being allowed to be at that place at that time with my camera in tow, fully charged with an empty disk. I didn’t ask to take his picture, though. Maybe he was worried that I was a safety inspector.
Ok, that is pretty obvious, but don’t you love the little opening of light following the mower? I did NOT Photoshop that in. It was an amazing opening in the clouds. How cool was that?
Just so you will be more knowledgeable at the end of this article than you were at the first, I want to clarify something. I mistakenly thought that this machine was a cotton picker until I looked online. I thought the fields looked pretty full of cotton still, but how wrong I was! This machine in my pictures was merely mowing down the cotton remains.
Did you find all my signatures? I’m getting pretty cagey, don’t you think?
Marsha Ingrao - Always Write 
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