Blue skies and white fields of cotton. Its a sure sign of Autumn in North Carolina when the fields look like a fresh snow has fallen.
When my mother and I drive by a cotton field, she always tells me stories of picking cotton by hand.

She could pick a lot of cotton once her finger tips got toughened up. The children played underneath shade trees planted in the middle of the field or at the end of the rows. There might be a baby in a playpen. The mama could pick cotton and keep an eye on the children at the same time.
my sister and me

There is a cotton gin located near my house, so as you can imagine the cotton trucks drive by strewing this "snow" in our yard. Hubby stays busy trying to vacuum the cotton and poultry feathers from our yard that fly off trucks going by.

I hope to always live in the country so as not to miss the beautiful sights that can be seen through the eye of the beholder, if only we open our hearts too. It may be a delapidated rustic barn, or a cow trying to eat the grass on the other side of the fence, or a small child swinging in a tire swing... keep your eyes open for the magical things you might see.
