the stereotypical bridge scene pulled from the net

I’m a visual person… always have been.  You can ask my mom and other family members.  Images hold a huge amount of importance in my life.  And while images can frequently be experience based, music creates a lot of images for me and it’s never far from me. The images created by a few songs come to mind on certain days too.  And with the third of June, comes the images I’ve had since childhood as I heard the first few lines of the son “Ode to Billie Joe.”  Somehow the “sleepy, dusty Delta day” and images of working on the farm grabbed me even way back then.  Those images had an inherent romanticism to me but as the song went on, the images of family and small town life had a much sadder appearance.

Growing up, I never imagined I would spend more than a decade in the place of those sleepy, dusty images.  I can’t imagine how many sleepy, dusty Delta days I dragged through or the times I crossed a bridge over the Tallahatchie River.  And while I never had to chop cotton or bale hay, I sure knew folks who were to be found in the field doing just those kinds of things.  And I’d frequently grab a camera and head down a turnrow to see what was happening.

Small town stories like the one relayed in the song were certainly passed around quickly, especially if they involved tragedy. I lived in a town of just 600 people for quite a few years and that small town and others in the Delta, had their share of tragedy, just like big cities. The tragedies that have stuck with me the most were the car accidents out on a deserted road somewhere, or some sort of crash with a four-wheeler or jet ski. All too frequently it involved teenagers or someone else just getting their start in life, like the parabled Billy Joe and Bobby Lee.

Despite the reality that there was a decent amount of sadness during my decade in the Delta, I rarely think about the things that brought me to tears while I was there. Instead, images of wandering down the turnrow to a cotton or soybean field, the way the river rushed past, practical jokes and those dinners with friends come to mind. The kind of dinner with the sort of friends where it’s fine to admit it’s been a sleepy day. Those are the images I have of the Delta… even if the soundtrack is a bit sadder.

I hope you enjoy the third of June, whether it’s sleepy or dusty. I know a few folks who still have hay to bale and there are likely some weeds in a cotton field somewhere need a bit of attention too. Even if there is a lot of work to be done, I hope you have some relaxed images in your rearview mirror.

[youtube=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CZt5Q-u4crc]

The post It Was the Third of June, Another Sleepy, Dusty Delta Day appeared first on Hundred Percent Cotton.

I’m not sure how many folks know how farmers know whether its time to plant. When it comes to my favorite crop — cotton, there are lots of different guidelines, but one grabs me.

In the Mississippi Delta, there is always an oxbow lake, a creek, the Mississippi River or some body of water nearby. If you aren’t familiar with oxbows, they have been created over centuries as rivers wander. I find oxbows like Lake Bolivar intriguing as they can be mistaken for the river at times. And having lived & worked right in that watershed, I have a special connection to it making it the primo in my experience/opinion.

Deer Creek comes out of Lake Bolivar and weaves its way through the Delta, covering hundreds of miles. Taking a short drive in the region, you can quickly find yourself crossing Deer Creek several times.  But at the mouth of the creek, where the Mississippi formed Lake Bolivar and just a few miles from the place where the levee broke in 1927, those soils are legendary for cotton. The silt loams are called ice cream soils — they are incredible. And it seems the fish appreciate the area too! Cause every afternoon, boats can be found on the lake or in the creek. It seems cotton and fishing are both tightly connected to Deer Creek and Lake Bolivar.

That’s why the guideline for planting grabs me so. Legend goes that you plant cotton once the folks fishing on Deer Creek or nearby lakes, etc stop sitting on buckets and sit on the ground itself. That’s because warmer soil temps are needed with cotton. The University of Tennessee suggests waiting for the soil temperature to reach 65 degrees at the 4 inch depth. This way, farmers can get the crop off to a healthy start.

For now, it seems the folks I see are still sitting on buckets for now — temps are warming though in my part of the world but corn & rice are still the focus for now.  We could be planting cotton soon!

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