Nuggets in the mud

I’m doubled over completely -- my butt is stuck straight up in the air and I’m seeing my feet sinking into six inches of thick, slimy mud. Mostly what I hear is the ticking of rain splashing down on my waterproof hood. We all look like busy worker bees this way, decked out from head to toe in bright yellow rain suits bent over the vegetables. My hands are starting to get cold inside the latex gloves but I enjoy the sensation of sliding my hands over each carrot to clear off the big chunks of mud. Despite this quick cleaning the carrots still look as though they were made of chocolate and we toss them into big heaps: a pile of chocolate carrots, mmmm.

On our fifteen-minute break I dance and we laugh and the workers show me how to eat carrots by running them through the dewy plants in the next row to clean off the mud. Work starts again and I begin to feel a seeping of water on my back and arms, I must have forgotten to adjust my rain suit correctly and now I’ll have to pay the price with wet clothes for the next hour. But work goes by quickly and I barely pay any notice to the fact that I’m starting to get wetter and wetter. My hair has now fallen out of the hood and it sticks to my face but my hands are too dirty so I don’t feel like dealing with it. With each step my boots feel as though they’re sinking into cement and I have to be careful not to leave behind one of my boots. A few times I lose my balance and almost fall but the workers are looking out for me -- out of nowhere I’m grabbed by a pair of large hands just in time before I faceplant in mud.

Next, we pile into the van and drive to the chard fields. The colors are astounding: vibrant oranges, spectacular reds, yellows, greens, magentas, whites. The rain only makes them shine brighter. By this time I am feeling the effects of the poorly zipped rain jacket so I am grateful when we finish in only fifteen minutes.

Soup for lunch? A glorious shower after work? A cozy trailer with rain pattering on the tin roof? Life is wonderful.