Yesterday, I went for a bike ride while Alec napped and Nikki graded papers (after she went for a run).
Snapped these pictures:
First, I rode alongside a few miles of cotton fields. They're beautiful and strange to a northerner's eye.
Some, like this one, look like soybeans piled with snow. I'm reminded of all the stories I've read about cotton picking. I'm reminded of reading about Eli Whitney's cotton gin...but no matter what, crops of cotton and tobacco make the South feel like a different country. Period.
The storefrong building below is beside a cotton field (can you see the cotton behind it?), and I have no idea what it used to be. I wonder if it was a company store for everybody who worked on the cotton plantation. Speculation, but lordy, I could find fodder for great story ideas hanging around here...as is true in any place in the world rich with history, I suppose.
The Gateway to Harvest Time Food is below, also. I'm always amazed at how "in your face" Christianity dares to be down here. I don't think anybody would try to get by with that signage in Minnesota!