The cotton pickers wait for the wagon
A wagon will come shortly to take them to the cotton field. They will cram in with a couple of dozen other cotton pickers and ride out to the far fields. The morning sun gets hot and draws the moisture from the ground and spills it into the air. A person has to breathe lightly to keep their balance.
At the field they will string out loosely and work through quadrants. Cotton plants don’t come up too high and and the fruit hides under the chippy leaves. Look at the men closely: those tall, limber frames will hunker down stooped and close, all their focus on their fingers — reach, pull, grab, drop.
The rhythm of every day was set by the big fields of cotton.
The photo is from Arkansas.