Duster

One of the highlights of growing up in the farming land of Wisconsin was the sound of the local crop duster flying over the house at 7 am. dusting the fields with its magic potions to help the farmers grow a healthy crop of whatever.  I swear, sometimes, you thought that plane was coming right through your bedroom.  As a kid, you immediately jumped up and ran outside hoping to witness the pilot's aerial gymnastics.  Some of those guys were true daredevils.  The really good ones would go under the telephone wires and between the telephone poles before pulling up to circle around again.  If I'm not mistaken, that's illegal to do these days.  While up north a couple of weeks ago, I was awoken to the sound of a cropdusters loud engine flying overhead.  I, maybe out of latent habit, jumped out of bed, grabbed my camera gear, rousted my son, jumped into the car and started driving around to find out which field he was headed to next.  Sure enough, a little farther away than I anticipated, but still only a few miles away, we found where he was performing his next show.  I started snapping away and I truly believe when these pilots see an audience they start putting on a show.  He made sure he was safe, but he added a few thrills like coming straight at us, at a low altitude, which made me drop my camera down from my eye once or twice.  Once I was comfortable that he had it under control, I was able to catch some decent shots.