Kenda, a blogging friend, has been writing Haiku and challenging her readers to do the same. Alas, I am no poet.?She shared an image of sky crisscrossed with jet streams, which went along with her Haiku called Vulnerability. It was lovely, but didn't spur me to try my hand at it.
Instead, I was reminded of?a picture I took recently of the sky above our house, and an experience of physical vulnerability. The?picture was taken a couple of weeks ago, as I was returning from my morning jog. Hubby had discovered the garbanzo field next to our house was infested with army worms, and so he hired an ag pilot to spray it.
Even as I was taking the picture, I felt the FINES, the fine droplets of pesticide in the air, hitting my skin. It's better not to be outside when pesticides are being aerially applied, and so I ran for shelter.
The builders were still re-siding our house, but they were both well covered and in the house's wind shadow, and so I doubt they got any fines on them.
The ag planes make a thunderous roar as they fly over. They used to drop little leaflets of toilet paper as markers so they would know where they left off on each pass over the field (before they reached the end, had to turn around and start over). Then technology advanced and they dropped a little blob of white foam with each pass instead. Now, they use GPS mapping, just as my hubby does in his tractor, when he's spraying with a ground rig.
Source: http://wordsworldandwings.blogspot.com/2012/08/vulnerability.html
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