There's nothing like a field of white cotton to drag me back to my childhood, living in Alabama, 'helping' the grownups pick cotton. I even had my own little sack that I slung over my shoulder that dragged along behind me while I picked.... maybe a handful of bolls. I was all of four or five years old.
Monday Shirley drove me out to a cotton field near her home. It looked like there was snow on the ground it was so white. I loved seeing it. Cotton has a very distinctive woodsy odor.. warm, comforting. I remember playing on big piles of picked cotton that had been stored on the front porch until the folks could go to the gin.
Oh, those were the best of times!
Here's Creedence Clearwater Revival to put you in the right mood. Play a little of it and sing along, I bet you know the words!
