Last week I made my way to the eastern side of my state for work. On a previous post I described how the terrain changes in a mere 270 miles. I hoped to see the hills ablaze with color, but that was not to be. Ablaze, no. Spots of color, yes. It could be that it was too early. Perhaps the trees are not ready to exchange their green coats for all shades of red, orange, and yellow. Occasionally a scarlet tree would stand proud among the greens, as if to say, “Look at me! Fall is here.”
The golden rod (a weed) hugged the edges of the road as they waved back and forth. My thoughts were “allergies beware.” The wild sumac stood just behind the golden rod. Every nuance of red could be viewed. That was the color I was searching for in the hills.
However, the most spectacular sight from this trip involved brown, green, and white. Driving out of the hills of the Ozark Mountains, I enter the flat fertile plains of the bootheel of Missouri. Stretching for acres and acres are the fields of cotton. Some plants have dried and turned a brittle brown. Some plants are in the process of drying, but they have a few green leaves close to the main stalk. But the most incredible sight is the white balls of cotton. They are riding high on the plant, like the foam of a wave. I wonder, “Is my future blouse out there somewhere?” Words can’t describe this scene, so maybe a picture will help.
I was able to pull off the highway near a field for a quick photo. I know other drivers wondered what the crazy lady was doing taking a picture of the field. Now for a close-up:
Of course I had to touch the cotton. The softness surprised me! Yes, I did pick one little stem. I happen to know a first grade class with a wonder table. It’s not bones but it is something that you won’t see on our side of the state.
elsie tries writing 
I think I missed you the other day, Elsie. What a lovely description of ‘my’ state. You made me homesick to see the fields and the autumn. My sister-in-law says it’s a strange autumn this year, not so much color, at least now. The fields look beautiful. I love that you brought a stem back for your friend, just as interesting as bones! And that you imagined a blouse somewhere out there. Nice thought.
This reminds me of my love of fields of dirt. I know that it would actually be dry, hard, and crumbly, but sometimes from afar a farm of freshly tilled rows for planting looks so pleasing to the eye that I imagine walking on it barefoot would feel like a wooly carpet. Nature holds so many beautiful textures- I love that your pictures compliment your description. And I love the admission of theft for the wonder table. A noble cause!
Neat description and thanks for the picture! I love the wide-view one; I too have never seen that and you’re right — words could not have really shown it to me! How fun that you stopped to take a picture! I like to be the crazy person taking a picture of something random just because it’s beautiful sometimes too!
Your writing takes me along to your journey. I like the image of a scarlet tree standing proudly. I have never seen a cotton plant. It doesn’t grow in Estonia.
Terje
I’ve never touched cotton like that… just cotton balls. How neat that you captured that!
You know, they ought to make bumper stickers that say something like “Danger. Teacher on board. I brake for photo-ops.”
I love that you pulled over on the highway to take photos of the cotton field! Thanks for sharing the photos with us. I like how you said, “Is my future blouse out there somewhere?” 🙂
–Jee Young
I love the foamy waves of cotton! I have never actually seen a field of ripe(? is that the right word?) cotton before yet I am surrounded by its produce. Thank you!
Elsie, once again I am inspired by the way you use both photos and words to capture slices of your life. Lucky kids who have a science table with cotton.
Ruth