Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Across the Mississippi from Memphis

Across the Mississippi from Memphis the land was flat and wet, and there were rice fields just like where I came from. Unlike where I came from, the fields here were not segmented into small plots but ran uninterrupted over large tracts of rich soil. There was no sight of water buffalos and toiling peasants either.

Still the rice fields looked and smelled so familiar that my eyes unconsciously searched for a coconut palm or two among the hickory trees in a nearby grove.

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