On our way to Husk, Google Maps directed us to a very out of the way detour that saved us hours on drive time. Apparently there was a terrible accident that backed up the highway for miles and miles. This detour was a complete blessing, I loved being off the interstate and driving through cotton fields. They were everywhere, right up to the road. As this was our adventure of a lifetime and the cotton just called out to me; I told Bowerbird to pull over. It was time to pick some cotton. I felt like a child stealing a cookie from a school bake sale. I pictured a man with a shotgun coming out from the field yelling at me to get off his land. So I quickly pulled a piece of cotton that was practically falling off the boll. Soft and white, apart from the seeds inside, my fresh piece of cotton was exactly like the little balls I’d buy at the drug store.