When Jim and I got back from a few errands this afternoon, Mom said a nearby plane was flying very low. I heard a kind of grinding engine, looked out her window, saw a field being crop dusted (or crop liquided, maybe) and ran outside to take photos. Jim said it would be fun to fly the plane (and he'd be the guy to do it) if it weren't for the chemicals. He also gave me the title for this post, plus a couple other similarly colorful statements. Considering all the electric poles and wires near here, doing this would take some careful planning.
Close up of the plane that was spraying a field near Mom's.
The plane dive bombed a field, trailed by a cloud of spray.