(no subject)

[aslant]

in the cotton.

.

dawn, thanksgiving. the view from his bedroom window.



.

daylight.



.

more daylight.



.

a cotton boll. i kept picking them up, plucking out the cotton. they were like acorns: i couldn't not pick them up. (i returned to the house with fistfulls in my pockets.)



.

a view down the irrigation wheels of an unstripped field.



.

more bolls.



.

a module: a solid block of cotton. maybe ten feet high?



.

me leaning on the module.



.

kirk leaning on the module.



.

a road in the fields. when kirk's dad took us out he gestured vaguely up and down saying that his plots were stretched over thirty miles or so.



.

me sitting in a cotton stripper. i was so worried the whole time that kirk's dad would think i didn't know how to climb up the ladder to get to it. but i think i did okay.



.

our shadows across a stripped field. you could look at every horizon and it all belonged to kirk's dad.



.

Comments

[lonelypainter.livejournal.com]

ooh, the shadows by the field. that's my favorite. but I just love the openness of it all. beautiful beautiful.

[softer.livejournal.com]

you are VERY cute. so cute, in fact, that i am smiling dumbly at the thought of exactly how cute you are as-i-type. no really!

Re:

[aslant.livejournal.com]

:) thank you, marina! eep. i'm not very used to being called cute, but i am always glad to send a smile your way.