Needless to mention, Jon chuckled through taking the pictures that go with this. Purple Grannie picking cotton is noteworthy. Son Jamie said it was stealing cotton but I am sure the farmers involved would affirm that it was the slim pickings left behind by the machines. I was picking by hand mind you. Just a few stalks to mail to the grandkids who have not seen growing cotton. But by just picking a little, I now can imagine the pain endured by those in our past history who have tackled picking large rows of cotton. Sharp hurtful features from the branches to the hulls makes one realize that cotton soft is some kind of oxymoron!
The delta country with its fertile fields was not experiencing spring yet so shades of ochre and umber abounded. A few daffodils peeked out in front yards of Vicksburg but looked a little forlorn. Spring will come it is one of God's great promises.
We were glad we experienced the delta and River Road with the car, the motorhome would have been challenged!
