I really should have shot the harvest yesterday. Huge machinery lumbered along, picking grain and spitting dust over just about every section of Siouxland ground, tandem wagons like elephants holding each other's tails on just about every blacktop, bellies swollen with beans and corn.
Early, there was little drama to the rising sun, a incandescent flame in a cloudless sky. I sat on the banks of the Big Sioux River and waited for old sol to light things up once it rose above the trees across the what little flow there was. With the water down so low, bleached cottonwoods, dead as doornails, snake through the empty bed, twisted and shipwrecked.
Still, sheer beauty is all around, way too much to get into a camera really, but enough to make you look twice, to show the blind how to see.
We spent some time shopping later. Earth tones are passe, I guess, because everything hanging from a clothes rack seems gaudy and sensational, superhero-ish. Out here, just beyond the windows of our new house, and all around the country, what's sensational is earthy. I like that because what's earthy is also sensational, or so it seems.
Was a good day and a good catch.