It's a bird, it's a plane...no really it's a plane!

So there I am, driving down the highway with nothing between me and the pavement but two small wheels and a fire breathing V-twin. I think to myself, this is what's about; no civilization in sight, just blazing down the open road. There's desert to my left and desert to my...no, no there isn't. There are cotton fields. As far as I can see there are cotton fields. Strange thing to see in the desert.

Out of the corner of my eye I see something flying. At first it looks like a circling hawk or other large bird. Quickly, I realize that it's not a bird but a plane. Cool. I think; that would be fun to do. Time seems to slow to a crawl as I am mesmerized by the plane's graceful movement through the sky; slowly turning right and then left. The plane looks awfully low. I snap out of my daze to realize that the plane is less than 100 feet off the ground, looks like smoking, and headed right toward me on the highway. For just a minute, I thought this was it; hit by a plane. At what seemed like the last minute, he banked to his left, came even lower, and a large cloud erupted from behind him. He was dusting the cotton fields. Ha-ha, false alarm. I guess this is what I get for not growing up an agricultural area. But I won't soon forget the day I almost died at the hands of a plane; or wings rather.