Last fall, I made my way to Valdosta, Georgia by way of everything in between (I, um, accidently booked my flight to Jackson, Mississippi instead of Jacksonville, Florida–oops!–and was routed from Denver to Chicago to Baltimore to Jacksonville).
My lovely friend Jackie, her husband, and their two kids picked me up when I finally arrived in Jacksonville and we drove to Valdosta, where they currently reside. Granted, after three years in South Korea and four years in Kyllburg, Germany, Valdosta isn’t quite as exotic as their previous residences. We were driving at night so I had no idea what type of scenery we were passing.
I was fascinated by the cotton fields. I’ve never been in the south while the cotton was in bloom. Um, does cotton even bloom? I know it grows, and I imagine that it blooms. Thoughts? Anyway, we passed field after field of blooming cotton (just go with the “blooming” theme here). I persuaded Josh to stop the minivan so I could shoot a couple of pictures so everyone back home could see what a field of blooming cotton looks like. Everyone ended up bailing out of the car with me.
Annabelle, their daughter, looked as cute as a bug’s ear standing next to the cotton and I couldn’t resist a few shots. I actually have a “better” photo in which she’s staring straight at the camera and smiling beautifully, but I preferred this shot where she was playing coy. The last time I had seen her, she was a little bitty thing. I was there when she took her first steps. In Germany. As you can see, she’s grown a bit.
Can you see why I think it blooms?
Since we were technically trespassing (sssh! don’t tell!), I didn’t pull any off of the stem so I have no idea if it’s as soft as a commercial cotton ball. I kind of wish I’d pulled a piece off… of course, then I would’ve felt guilty for doing that to someone else’s plant. It was a bit of a catch-22 so I just refrained.
And to think we nearly destroyed our own country over cotton and the slaves that harvested it. That’s right… a fluffy white plant and the enslaved work force we thought to be necessary in upholding the trade nearly tore apart the United States of America. King Cotton and tobacco, to some extent. Speaking of which, I saw tobacco fields as well. Anyway, as someone who majored in history, and whose favorite eras are the Revolutionary War, Civil War, and World War II, seeing cotton up close and personal was of great interest to me. I only photographed it to remember what it looked like.